


Named must your fear be

by RosieWanKenobi



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: All credit to the Duffer brothers who created these amazing characters, Anxiety, Artist Will Byers, Castle Byers (Stranger Things), Coming Out, Did I mention lots of FLUFF and some smut, Eventual Fluff, F/F, F/M, Gay Romance, Good Parent Jim "Chief" Hopper, Good Parent Joyce Byers, Happy Ending, I adore all these characters and just want them to be "all happy and gay", ITS GONNA BE GAY, Jane Hopper is learning and becoming herself, Language, M/M, POV Eleven | Jane Hopper, POV Will Byers, Queer Themes, Scoops Ahoy (Stranger Things), Season 1&2 are still Canon, Starcourt Mall (Stranger Things), Story about awakenings and growing up, Supportive Joyce Byers, Takes place around the time of Season 3, This story is completely different from Season 3, Will Byers Needs a Hug, give queer storylines a chance, traumatic memories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:21:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23642998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieWanKenobi/pseuds/RosieWanKenobi
Summary: I'm amazed by the endless possibilities that the Duffer Brothers have created within the Stranger Things universe. And even though I loved Season 3, I really wanted to explore queer themes with these characters. So here I am, writing fanfiction I never thought I'd write ;DAs a queer person, some of the shows fantasy elements, like the monsters and the upside down, are really important to me, because they feel like metaphors for growing up, feeling confused and ostracized by others for being queer, and struggling to come out.This story will alternate between the perspectives of Will Byers and Jane Hopper, with some smatterings of other character's perspectives. I really love the name "El" but calling her Jane in this story makes more sense because of the things I explore with her character.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Will Byers/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	1. WILL BYERS

**Author's Note:**

> I'm amazed by the endless possibilities that the Duffer Brothers have created within the Stranger Things universe. And even though I loved Season 3, I really wanted to explore queer themes with these characters. So here I am, writing fanfiction I never thought I'd write ;D  
> As a queer person, some of the shows fantasy elements, like the monsters and the upside down, are really important to me, because they feel like metaphors for growing up, feeling confused and ostracized by others for being queer, and struggling to come out.  
> This story will alternate between the perspectives of Will Byers and Jane Hopper, with some smatterings of other character's perspectives. I really love the name "El" but calling her Jane in this story makes more sense because of the things I explore with her character.  
> 

It was 2am in the Byer household and Will Byers was drawing again. He was having trouble sleeping. It was nothing new. It had been going on for months now. Ever since the Mind Flayer had completely left his body.  
For the first few weeks, months even, he felt free, like a weight was lifted, but then all that was left, creeping in, settling inside every bone in his body, was an emptiness..  
He was fourteen years old now and everything had been burned out of him. He felt hollow and dry inside. Any moment he might collapse into a pile of ashes and vanish into the sky.  
Every night his body felt so empty, his mind so lost and numb. Images of his friends would flash through his mind as he tried to sleep. Their smiles, their laughs, so bright and so overpowering. They drowned him out. He couldn’t think, their feelings were too loud and he couldn’t feel anything.  
He would lie there, sweating and sweating and then finally he would jump out of bed and sit at his drawing desk.  
His fingers twitched as he began frantically pulling out blank paper, pencils, pastels, pencil crayons, charcoal, crayons, anything to capture the images in his head. To get them out onto paper.  
Drawing made him feel something. It made him feel like he was reshaping what was inside himself, reminding himself of the things he couldn’t feel anymore. The blank paper that came to life was like his body: blank, hollow, void, waiting for a spark, a splash of colour, to give it life.  
The only difference was that the blank paper could become what he wanted it to become. His body could not. It was not listening to him.  
Today at 2am a face began to take shape on the blank piece of paper. He was drawing portraits a lot lately. Larger narratives were harder to feel excited about. Fantasy worlds felt too real and raw to be sketched and planned out. So he captured familiar faces instead.  
Yesterday at midnight it had been Max. Blazing orange, red, gold, brown, every colour in her hair filling the page, beams of sunlight streaking across her face as she stared intently. Her eyes fierce and her lips contemplative. It was an unreadable expression and yet it felt so powerful. Max scared him sometimes. She had so much inner strength and rage that she held back with smiles and jokes almost effortlessly. It was as if she was his opposite. Her body contained so much intensity that sometimes it seeped out through her eyes or her eyebrows. She wasn’t mad at you but she would just stare so hard that you thought she was about to kill you and then she would laugh and make a joke and you would forget what had just happened.  
Today, as his pencil crayons moved across the page, deep brown eyes began to take shape. They were large, sad eyes, with long lashes. Tousled, inky black hair, disheveled, and drooping at the edges. Falling thickly across a forehead, obscuring sharp, furrowed eyebrows. Flushed cheeks, dancing freckles, flared nostrils and a prominent mouth. Full lips slightly parted, looking forlorn. Mike Wheeler emerged on the paper.  
“I’m sorry Mike,” Will whispered to the drawing, tracing the line of his friend’s lips, gently stroking the black locks as if to brush them out of his friend’s face. But the drawing only continued to stare forlornly.  
Will couldn’t look at it anymore. Why had he drawn Mike so sad? Mike was happy now wasn’t he? Eleven – now Jane Hopper - was safe. She could focus on being a teenager. She was spending time with all of them. She was spending time with Mike. Too much time.

The next morning Will stumbled into the kitchen.  
“Heyyy buddy,” said Jonathan loudly, ruffling his hair. “You’re up late today.”  
Joyce crossed the kitchen in a millisecond, smothering him in a hug and a kiss on the forehead.  
“Are you feeling okay? You look a little sick.”  
“Thanks a lot mom,” his voice jumped down an octave. “I’m just tired. I was drawing last night. I had trouble sleeping again.” No point in hiding it. They both knew.  
She squeezed his shoulder and put a warm plate of pancakes in front of him. “It will pass. These things just take time. You should talk to Jane. You’re both dealing with similar things and she’s been writing things out just like you’ve been drawing.”  
“Except she grew up in a lab and I grew up in this family. There’s a big difference.”  
“Yes, but you both have trauma that you would rather bury inside, even though it needs to be released in healthy ways. And you’ve both been doing that. You really should talk to her. She’s coming over today to do some writing with me.”  
“She scares me mom. I don’t know what to say to her.”  
“Didn’t you just say that the other day about, Max,” said Jonathan, smirking playfully at him. “I’m sensing a pattern here. Will Byers is afraid of girls.”  
“Shut up, Jonathan.” Another voice crack. “I’m not afraid of all girls. Jane and Max just happen to be very intense girls.”  
“Whatever you say, Will the Wise,” said Jonathan, wolfing down his last bite of pancakes and standing up hastily. “Well, gotta go see my scary girlfriend.”  
“Nancy’s not scary. I like talking to Nancy. She always asks me interesting questions.”  
Jonathan smiled a little dreamily, clearly thinking about Nancy. He had just seen her yesterday at work. He had a serious problem. Will did not understand what the fuss was about.  
“So you’re only afraid of girls your own age, then?” said Jonathan, still teasing.  
“Afraid is better then being stupidly obsessed.”  
Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Soon you’ll understand.” Whatever that meant. “Bye, mom. Thanks for the pancakes.” Jonathan kissed Joyce on the cheek. “They were perfect.”  
Joyce didn’t often have the chance to make breakfast for them, but today was Saturday and she had the day off from work.  
She smiled as she took a big mouthful off of her own plate. “They are perfect, aren’t they?”  
Will nodded, absently. “Mom, what if I won’t ever understand about all that mushy stuff?”  
Joyce squeezed his hand. “You will. But it will probably take you by surprise. Loving someone does that. It just kind of creeps up on you. And then you’re in too deep before you realize.”  
“When you say that, it makes me even less interested. I don’t want something that creeps up on me. I don’t want someone to take me by surprise. I’ve had enough surprises.”  
Joyce sighed. She laughed a little, but her expression had tiny brushstrokes of sadness. “That’s true! Maybe I’m not describing it right. I’m just speaking from my own experience. Your experience will be different from mine, just like Jonathan’s is different from yours. We all fall in love in our own ways. I’m certain you’ll find someone special. But there’s no rush.”

Will sat on the porch, reading The Fellowship of the Ring. Joyce sat beside him, reading The Colour Purple. Sometimes they would share moments from their books with each other. Will was continually fascinated by the beautiful friendships between Sam and Frodo, Legolas and Gimli. He got lost in the landscapes, the battles, the adventures that Tolkien created. Sometimes he pictured his friend’s faces in the characters. Legolas was Lucas, strong-willed, clever and handsome, his bow a sling shot. Dustin was Gimli, irreverent and inventive, his untimely humour crashing through tension like Gimli’s battle axe.  
He was Frodo, cursed with the burden of the upside down and the mind flayer, just as Frodo carried the burden of the ring. And Mike was Sam, brave and loyal, always by his side, always there to face the darkness with him.  
He thought of Mike’s eyes, always searching his face, always asking him if he was okay. He thought of the time Mike would sleep in the uncomfortable lab chair beside his bed, while his body was contaminated with the Mind Flayer. When his world shifted into the upside down’s sinister landscape, it had been Mike’s voice that pulled him out.  
But sometimes he still felt so far away from them all. He had missed so much. He felt old and shrivelled like Gandalf the Grey, with a deeper, harrowing knowledge that he did not want. But he also felt like Gandalf the White, born anew, younger in spirit and in thought than any of them.  
They had girlfriends now, they looked and acted like teenage boys. Will didn’t know how to be a teenage boy.  
He had been thinking about trying to devise a new D&D campaign, since Mike hadn’t planned one in several months. Will was having trouble drawing and planning out complicated D&D fantasy scenarios because everything he had experienced had blurred fantasy and reality in his mind. There was still a small part of him that was afraid that if he planned a campaign he might inadvertently lead their party into more real danger. He might find himself so lost in the upside down that he could never return.  
He was also afraid that if he didn’t create a new campaign soon, it might be too late. Mike, Lucas and Dustin were already loosing interest.  
Just then his mother nudged his shoulder. He looked up from his book.  
Mike was riding his bike up their grassy driveway.  
“Hey,” he called out to Will, wobbling a bit on his bike. Mike still hadn’t gotten used to how tall he was getting and how long his arms and legs had grown. Sometimes it felt like every time Will saw Mike he had grown a few inches. Will didn’t mind. It felt right that Mike should be taller than him and he enjoyed how clumsy Mike had gotten because of his height. The sight of Mike’s dishevelled hair and the ugly sweater his mom had probably forced him to wear, made Will smile. It wasn’t even cold outside, but Mrs. Wheeler couldn’t stand the thought of her son “catching a chill.”  
Will stood up, trying to hide his huge smile, and shading his eyes from the sun. “I thought you weren’t coming until later, with Jane and the others.”  
“Nice to see you too, Byers,” Mike scoffed, but then he broke into a goofy grin. “So now I’m not allowed to want to spend some alone time with one of my best friends.”  
Will crossed his arms, clutching his book to his chest. “What about your girlfriend?”  
“You know how Hopper is. He wanted to spend some quality time with Jane, without me there.”  
“Good for him,” said Joyce approvingly. She quickly buried her head back in her book, and pretended she hadn’t been listening.  
Mike shot her an annoyed look. “Come on, Will. Lets go to Castle Byers. You’re turning into an old Grandpa, sitting on your porch reading books like that.”  
“Hey! Its Lord of the Rings,” Will protested, his voice cracking again.  
“Isn’t this your third time reading through the trilogy?”  
Will looked down at his shoes. “Yes,” then his eyes flew back up, squinting at Mike. “Remind me, how many times have you watched The Empire Strikes Back?”  
“Okay you win. But come on, lets go! Plenty of time to read later. Mirkwood awaits!”  
Will put down his book and kissed his mom on the cheek. Mike grinned at him with an insufferable ‘no one can resist my charms’ look, as Will hopped on the back of Mike’s bike and they rode off.  
They sprinted down Mirkwood road. Mike pedalling fast, while Will gripped his shoulders tightly, closing his eyes and feeling the wind whip through his hair. He could smell the familiar clean, soapy smell of Mike’s hair in the breeze. Mike was one of those boys who liked showering often.

Joyce always had to remind Will to take a shower. He was still afraid of being in hot water for too long after the mind flayer. Hot water made his skin crawl. But he couldn’t take cold showers either. He had tried to once, several months ago. Mike had been sleeping over and he had decided to try it that morning. The moment the cold water hit his skin, it was like being smashed by a truck. Everything hit him at once, the upside down, the storm, the mind flayer consuming him. ‘He likes it cold.’  
He stumbled out of the shower, the water still running, managing to wrap a towel around his waist before he collapsed on the floor, crying and shaking uncontrollably. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t stop it. His heart was racing so fast.  
Mike burst into the bathroom, kneeling down and grabbing his bare shoulders. Joyce and Jonathan were already at work. Thank god Mike had been there. In that moment he felt like he might have hurt himself if it wasn’t for Mike.  
Mike rubbed his back and wiped the tears out of his eyes with his soft fingers. He handed him kleenexes and told him to breathe. He wrapped both his arms around Will and squeezed him tightly. “Its okay. Its okay. Its just me, its just me, Mike Wheeler. Its just you and me.” And his voice was so gentle in Will’s ear. His arms were so steady around Will’s chest, that he stopped gulping for breath, his body stopped shaking and he closed his eyes.  
Mike turned off the shower and helped him walk back to his room, still wrapped only in a towel. They sat side by side on Will’s bed. Mike held his hand tightly and Will told him what had happened. The familiar, agonizing fear that he had felt when the cold water hit his skin. "It was like he was inside me again, Mike. I had no control." He couldn't help the tears that flooded his eyes. Mike cried with him. Mike was one of those boys that always cried when he needed to. “I’m so sorry, Will,” he said to him. “I’m sorry its still so hard. I wish I could share it with you somehow, to make it easier.”

Will squeezed Mike’s shoulder, as they sped down the road. Mike smiled and whooped loudly as they came to a screeching halt at the entrance to the forest wherein Castle Byers stood.  
They raced into the woods, hiding Mike's bike behind some trees.  
Castle Byers stood sturdily within its forest kingdom. Home of Will the Wise. All friends welcome. The American flag fluttering lazily in the gentle breeze.  
Mike hit his head as they walked through the entrance that was covered by a thick sheet. He hadn’t crouched low enough, and he tripped, toppling into Will. They tumbled onto the old mattress that filled most of the small space.  
“Fucking hell, I’ll never get used to it.” Mike rubbed his head, grimacing a little. Mike had always enjoyed cussing, but he used the F word a lot more now. Will liked when Mike used the F word. He felt stupid when he said it, like he was trying too hard. But Mike made it sound cool.  
“It feels like just a few months ago I barely needed to crouch at that entrance. Its smaller and cozier in here now,” he said, nudging Will.  
Will was feeling shy for some reason. They were sitting so close together on the mattress and he didn’t know what to say. He looked up at his drawings covering the walls and all the embarrassing old photographs.  
“It all feels kind of stupid,” he said.  
“No its not!” Protested Mike. “I love this place. I’ve always loved it. I love all your old drawings and photographs and board games. Its like a cave of treasures. It helps me to remember things. Like this!” He pulled the photo of all four of them in their ghostbuster costumes. “Look at you. You looked so adorable in your costume. I forgot how small you were.”  
“I was not small. You were small too! And you were pouting like a baby in your photos.”  
Mike shoved Will into the pillows. “Hey!” But then he laughed at himself in the photo. “My mom would not stop taking photos.” Mike slumped into the pillows next to Will. “We should watch Ghostbusters again soon. I haven’t seen it in ages.”  
“Miiiiike we’ve watched that movie hundreds of times,” said Will, his voice dropping an octave.  
“Wiiiiiill,” Mike imitated Will’s cracking voice, “I don’t care. Lets watch it again.”  
Will elbowed Mike in the gut and Mike pushed Will’s face into the pillow. “Fine,” said Will, his voice muffled in the squishy pillow. “We’ll watch it. But I want to see that new movie Back to the Future too.”  
“We’ll have to sneak in the theatre again,” said Mike, whispering in Will’s ear. It sent a shiver down Will’s spine.  
He sat up, his hair rumpled. Mike was grinning stupidly at him. “What?” Mike asked. “Why are you giving me that Will the Wise look?”  
Will pushed him over. “I don’t have a look.”  
Mike laughed. “Yes you do. Its your ‘its time to get serious look’ or ‘shut up and stop goofing around, Mike,’ look. Its a look. And you’re doing it now.”  
Will crossed his arms, exasperated. “Okay fine. I am giving you a look. Why are you all of a sudden just here at Castle Byers with me? You haven’t been here with me in months. We haven’t hung out just the two of us in months.”  
Mike hugged the pillow and wouldn’t look at him. “Okay you’re right. I know. I’m sorry. That’s why I came today. I wanted to say I’m sorry. I just - its been hard with Jane, and I’ve just been trying to figure it out. And Lucas has been helping me, but now that Max dumped him he doesn’t want to hear about Jane this and Jane that anymore and he asked me why I’d been avoiding you. But its not like I’m the only one. Dustin has been hanging out with Steve more than any of us. And he’s always talking about Susie this and Susie that.”  
“Now you know what it feels like,” mumbled Will.  
“I’m not that annoying about, Jane.”  
Will gave him another look.  
“Okay, yes I have been, but its because she’s learning so many new things and she’s starting to really realize how fucked up her childhood has been and she’s trying to process it all and she’s always listening to Hopper and your Mom and Mr. Clark like they’re these gods and Max too. She hangs out a lot more with Max now and she’s always saying things to me like ‘you can’t control me Mike’ and ‘I’m not your pet,’ ‘I’m not one of your toys,’ and ‘I’m my own person and I need to make my own choices about things,’ and I know that! I’m not an idiot. And I’m definitely not trying to control her. I don’t think she’s my pet. That’s insane! I’m not like one of those guys at the lab.” He was punching his pillow angrily. “I’m just trying to help her. I just want her to tell me what ‘things’ she’s talking about that she needs to make her own choices about. So I know what I’m doing wrong. Cause I don’t know, and she won’t tell me. She used to tell me things, and I would help her and we would have fun together. But now all she talks about is Max this, and Max that, and Joyce said this and Jim did that. I don’t know what to do, Will. I don’t get it. I thought I was the person she trusted more then anyone else. But ever since she got her new name, Jane Hopper, she’s been different. I gave her the name El, but I guess that doesn’t matter anymore.”  
Will sighed. Mike had that sad, forlorn look in his deep brown eyes. The same expression that Will had drawn in his face. “I’m sorry, Mike. I know how much you care about Jane. But I think that’s the problem. You always care so much about a person that you smother them a little.”  
“What, no I -”  
“Sorry, smother isn’t the right word. But you just want to help so much that you try to do everything for her, and try to carry all her pain for her. I had to learn that about you too. When you stopped doing that with me I realized I needed to learn to process it myself, I couldn’t just rely on you to help me all the time. I think Jane is starting to realize that. She used to treat you like a god Mike, but now she’s realizing she can trust other people too. And its okay, I know she still cares about you. But remember what Yoda says: ‘Named must your fear be before banish it you can.’ Jane has to name her own fear. You can’t banish it for her. In the lab, her mind powers were something that they were forcing her to use. They were forcing her to use her body and her mind for their own purposes. And you are the first person that really told her she didn’t have to do that any more. You were her Yoda. But Luke defies Yoda to save his friends. In the end, the best thing Luke learned from Yoda was to make his own choice. And Jane choosing the name her mother gave her is a part of that.”  
Mike groaned and slumped forward, his head resting in Will’s lap. “You always know exactly what to say to me Will the Wise. Why do you always know? I should’ve talked to you sooner about this. I miss you.” He poked Will’s cheek. “I’m sorry. The mind flayer did that to you too. He used your body for his own purposes. Bastard! I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you lately. I know its still hard for you. Lucas said you still aren’t sleeping.”  
Will couldn’t look at Mike. He picked at a loose thread in Mike’s sweater and a small smile crept into the corner of his mouth.  
“What? What are you smiling about?”  
“Just admiring your sweater,” said Will.  
“Shut up! You know my mom made me wear it.”  
“I like it,” said Will. “Its very colourful.”  
“I like you,” said Mike.

Just then, they heard shouts in the woods and branches crashing. Lucas, Dustin, Max and Jane were running through the forest towards Castle Byers. Mike jumped up and banged his head on the roof of the castle. Will laughed at him and he pushed Will back into the pillows and ran outside.  
Will heard Jane call out, “Mike!” and Lucas scream, “Mike!” in a girlish voice.  
He emerged from Castle Byers to see Jane tackling Mike in a hug and Lucas close behind, tackling them both to the ground. Dustin ran straight to Will and crushed him with a hug. Max was close behind.  
They all ran back to Will’s house to play Ultimate Ninja on the grass. They couldn’t do it in the woods. There wasn’t enough space for their elaborate side kicks and jump kicks. Jane rode on the back of Mike’s bike and Will tried to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

When they got there, Jane went inside to work on her writing with Joyce. Joyce poked her head back outside. “Will, can you come inside for a moment?”  
“What did you do this time, Will?” Lucas teased.  
Will just rolled his eyes and went inside.  
Joyce just looked at Will and then looked at Jane, who was sitting at the table and making the salt and pepper shakers levitate. She had a notebook and pencil in front of her on the table.  
Joyce left the room and Will gulped, standing and staring at her awkwardly. “That’s cool,” he said.  
She looked up at him, and the salt and pepper shakers slowly glided back down onto the table.  
“I’m sorry, Will.” She looked at him with her intense eyes.  
“What do you mean? You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”  
“Lucas said that I stole Mike away from you. I didn’t mean to.”  
“What? You didn’t steal Mike from me. Mike was never mine or anyone’s. Lucas just likes being dramatic.”  
“But he said I needed to let Mike spend more time with you because he misses you.”  
“You were never stopping Mike from spending time with me, Jane,” said Will.  
“Maybe I was,” she said. She scrunched up her face intently. “I wanted Mike all to myself, but I don’t anymore. Mike isn’t good at saying no to me, or to anyone. Sometimes I think he lies.”  
“Mike would never lie to you, Jane.”  
“But sometimes I think he might lie to himself. Jim says people lie to themselves all the time. I’m not really sure what it means, but I think I do it too sometimes. I was lying to myself before I started writing things down. When I write things down I have to tell the truth.”  
Joyce’s voice came out of nowhere, making Will jump. “Hopper is right and I’m so proud of you, Jane, for realizing that. We all lie to ourselves sometimes when we don’t want to face the truth because it might be hard or painful. But you are being brave by writing about it. And Will is being brave when he draws.” Joyce placed the drawing of Max and the drawing of Mike on the table in front of Jane. She must have found them in Will’s room.  
“Mom, you can’t just -”  
“But they’re so beautiful, Will. I wanted Jane to see how you’ve been using drawing as an outlet for the trauma you’ve been through.”  
Jane touched the drawing of Mike fondly, but then she gazed at the drawing of Max with her lips slightly parted. “Pretty,” she whispered. She touched Max’s hair and her nose. “Can I keep this?”  
“If you want,” said Will.  
She quickly folded it and tucked it into her notebook. She looked at him. “You’re really good at drawing, Will. I found a binder of all your drawings hidden in Mike’s room. Don’t tell Mike. He doesn’t like it when I look through all his things without asking him.”  
Will smiled.  
“He has so many drawings from you. You must draw all the time. Doesn’t it hurt your head? It hurts my head when I write so much.”  
“You’ll get better at it. I’ve been practicing for ages. Since I was really little.”  
“Mike has a picture of both of you when you were really little. I wish I had a picture of me when I was really little.”  
Joyce squeezed Jane’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll take lots of pictures of you now so that when you get older you can look back and say ‘look at how little I was!’”  
Jane smiled.  
“Will, come on!” Dustin shouted from outside. “Max is beating everyone!”  
Joyce nodded, indicating that he could go back outside. He quickly took his drawing of Mike and put it back in his room, hiding it under his pillow.  
He could hear Lucas’ high pitched scream, Max’s wild laughter and Mike shouting at Dustin.  
He ran out into the sunshine, feeling new sparks of adventure light up inside him, the emptiness forgotten for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to." - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring


	2. JANE HOPPER

Jane Hopper. That was her new name. It felt good to know her name. The name her mama had given her. It felt good to know that Jim Hopper was hers. He belonged to her. That’s what it meant when their names were connected on the certificate he showed her. It meant they belonged to each other. She belonged. It was official.  
She was fourteen now. She was a woman. That’s what Mrs. Wheeler said to her. Nancy had groaned at her mom. “Don’t let anyone rush you, Jane,” Nancy had told her emphatically.  
Jane didn’t know what being a woman meant, besides leaking blood out of her body once a month. Joyce had taught her about that.  
She didn’t even know what being a girl meant. But she was starting to figure out what being Jane meant.  
It meant she had to learn things. They were teaching her. Homeschooling her, as Dustin called it.  
There was so much to learn. All day, every day. She had been taught how to read and write when she was very young, inside the lab. But there had been very limited materials.  
Now, Jim was reading her books like Anne of Green Gables and Tom Sawyer and telling her about the history of America. Mr. Clarke was teaching her about photosynthesis and the scientific method, and how human beings live on planet earth, which lives in the milky way galaxy, which lives in the universe.  
Joyce was helping her to write down her memories of the lab.

“If you write them down on paper they won’t feel so big in your mind,” Joyce urged, as they sat at Joyce’s kitchen table, sunlight streaming through the windows and illuminating the blank page in front of her.  
Jane slowly began to write in her notebook. 

_They locked me in and shut the door. Papa shut the door.  
I was hidden behind walls and they watched me. They told me what to do.  
They heard my screems, I know they did. But they looked away. They did not think my screems were  
important. I wanted to hurt them all.  
But Papa made me feel small. He looked at me like I was interesting, even when I screemed. He tawked  
to me gently.  
I could berry my screems for Papa. I could push them deep down.  
And he would carry me and tell me everything was fine and I would beleeve him._

“That’s really good, Jane. Your sentence structure is very clear. Just remember that in words like scream and believe the ee sound is spelled differently. And there is a silent l in talk, not a silent w.”  
Jane quickly erased tawked and wrote it in correctly. “Beleeve, beleeve, beleeve.” She was whispering the word quietly, trying to remember the different spelling of the ee sound.  
“Its ie,” she said suddenly. “B-e-l-i-e-v-e.”  
“Wonderful!” Joyce beamed at her. Joyce never failed to get excited at her progress.  
“And remember that berry with an e is the berry that you eat. But if you wanted to bury your berry in the dirt how would it be spelled?”  
Jane massaged her temples. “B-u-r-r-y,” she spelled out hopefully.  
“Almost,” said Joyce encouragingly, “but there is only one r in this bury.”  
Jane ran her hands through her lengthening hair, frowning.  
Joyce frowned too. “I know its confusing, but you’re getting so good at it. You got the silent l in could. And I know I keep telling you this, but every time you write these experiences down, they get smaller and smaller, and soon they won’t matter any more because you’ll have so many better memories to fill your mind with.”  
Jane nodded. She could hear all the boys and Max outside playing a game without her that seemed to involve a lot of shouting and laughter.  
Just then the front door burst open and Max came running in, gasping and panting for breath.  
“Hi Jane,” she grinned, tossing her flaming hair out of her face, her eyes bright, her face flushed with sunlight. She rushed to the kitchen sink and filled up a glass of water, gulping it down in two seconds.  
“Hi Max,” said Jane absently, staring at Max’s red hair. She was like Anne from Anne of Green Gables, except unlike Anne, Max was a real person. And Max was Jane’s friend.  
It had taken some time for Jane to feel comfortable around Max. She didn’t trust her at first. Her hair was so shiny and her eyes were so bright and inquisitive. She was always laughing and joking and she never backed down when Jane tried to ignore her. How could so much of everything fit into one person. Max always knew about things, she never seemed afraid, even if she was momentarily hurt or shocked when Jane pushed her away. She always recovered quickly and she would come back smiling and curious, telling Jane she was sorry that she was always so loud and obnoxious and that she really liked her and just wanted to be her friend. And eventually Jane agreed.  
“How’s the studying going?” Max asked.  
“Its going great!” said Joyce.  
“You’ve been at it for a while. What have you been doing all this time?” She glanced at the open page of Jane’s notebook.  
Jane quickly closed it. She felt....embarrassed? Yes, that was it. It was a new word that Nancy Wheeler had taught her. She did not like the feeling. But she was embarrassed about what she had written on the paper. Not because of the spelling errors, but because of what she had experienced. She didn’t want Max to know.  
“How do you spell scream?” she asked Max quickly, to distract her from her notebook.  
“S-c-r-e-a-m,” Max recited automatically. “Like ice cream!”  
“Oh,” said Jane.  
“Oh? What do you mean oh?! Don’t you like ice cream?”  
“I’ve never had ice cream before,” admitted Jane.  
“What!?” Max shouted, making Jane flinch. “You’ve never had ice cream!” She ran to the front door, opened it and hollered, “code red, code red. Jane has never eaten ice cream.”  
The boys came running into the house, panting and looking shocked.  
“What?” shouted Lucas..  
“How?” panted Will.  
“Why?” Dustin looked like he might cry, “the world is a cruel place without ice cream.”  
“Jane, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve taken you,” said Mike.  
“Well, that settles it then,” said Joyce, standing up. “I think we’ve done enough studying for today. I have to pick up some groceries, so why don’t I drop you two girls off at Starcourt Mall and you can get some ice cream at that Scoops Ahoy place where Steve works.”  
All the boys look eager, especially Dustin, who had been visiting Steve at Scoops Ahoy almost everyday since he had gotten back from summer camp.  
“No, I’m sorry boys,” said Joyce. “This is a girls trip and I can’t fit you all in my car anyways. The four of you haven’t spent time all together in a while. Take the opportunity.”  
There were many protests and groans of annoyance, but Joyce insisted that they make this a girl’s trip. It was Jane’s first time going to Starcourt Mall. Hopper had avoided taking her there because of the large crowds of people. Joyce seemed to think it was time for her to face it.  
“And maybe Max can help you pick out a nice new outfit,” said Joyce encouragingly, giving Jane a little bit of cash and winking at Max as they got into the car together.  
Mike briefly grabbed Jane’s hand and said, “it’ll be fun, Jane. You’ll love ice cream.”  
She nodded. “Bye Mike,” she whispered, smiling at him from the car window as the other boys shouted out all the different ice cream flavours that she should try.  
Max was telling her all about Starcourt Mall and all the different stores, and how she didn’t really like shopping for clothes, but maybe if they both tried stuff on together it might be fun.  
Jane wasn’t exactly sure what she meant. But this often happened when Max was chatting with her and she just nodded and let Max talk, hoping that she would slowly get better at deciphering these things.  
She still didn’t quite understand what a mall was. She had seen advertisements for it, but it didn’t seem real.

When they arrived in the crowded parking lot and Jane and Max stepped out of the car, Joyce called out a final reiteration of “stay safe and have fun.” As they walked towards the front doors, surrounded by eager shoppers, Jane hesitated, grimacing slightly.  
“Come on, Jane. This will be fun.” Max held out her hand.  
Jane took it uncertainly, but immediately felt courage coursing through her. Max smiled and pulled her inside.  
Jane’s mouth dropped. She had never seen such a colourful, crowded space. It reminded her of her brief visit to Chicago. But Starcourt mall was all shiny and new. There were trees and plants indoors, a fountain and benches, and a second floor above them with more stores. There were strange moving stairs. Jane stepped onto them, still clutching Max’s hand and they rode up to the second floor. Jane was feeling dizzy. There was so much to see, so many things to look at. It was so bright and loud. Max was pointing excitedly at different stores, and Jane’s hand felt safe and strong in Max’s hand.

Max was so cool. She could ride a skateboard, drive a car and she had cool clothes and pretty hair.  
“I wish I was cool like you, Max,” said Jane suddenly.  
Max laughed. “You’re way cooler than me, Jane. You’re so tough and strong and you have super powers.”  
“But I’m not pretty,” said Jane, looking at her shoulder length, plain brown hair in the clothing store mirror and frowning.  
“Yes you are! Mike thinks you’re pretty. And...” Max hesitated, her face slightly flushed, as she fumbled with a shirt on a hanger. “I think you’re really pretty, Jane.”  
Jane was staring intensely at her. Max looked away quickly but kept talking. “You’re super bad ass and you’re really beautiful, not just pretty.”  
“Is beautiful better than pretty?” asked Jane.  
“Yeah definitely,” said Max. She pointed to an add on the wall of a blonde woman modelling one of the outfits in the store. “She’s pretty,” said Max, “but you are beautiful.”  
Jane smiled. She felt warmth spreading from her toes up through her whole body. “Oh.”  
“Don’t let it go to your head,” said Max, grinning. “Here, you should try this on. You’ll look super cool and bad ass in it.”  
“Okay,” said Jane. She took the clothes Max handed to her. For some reason she felt strange about taking off her clothes in front of Max. She stood there awkwardly.  
But Max always had a solution. She seemed to read Jane’s mind. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to try them on in the middle of the store,” she grinned. “There are change rooms just over there where we can both try our items on privately and then show them to each other.”  
They walked over to the change rooms and a smiling girl who appeared to work there gave them each a small room with a mirror inside it. For a moment Jane’s hand started trembling as she walked inside and began to shut the door. But then she realized that it wasn’t a full length door. It was cut off at the top and the bottom, so light streamed in and she could easily crawl out if she somehow got locked inside. But she wouldn’t get locked in. Max wouldn’t let that happen. She was safe here. She was safe with Max.  
Jane liked trying on new clothes with Max. Her eyes would go wide whenever Jane came out of the change room with a new outfit. “Everything looks so good on you, Jane.”  
Jane felt herself blushing. She twirled around in front of the mirror with each new outfit and Max laughed when Jane put things on backwards or didn’t know what a certain item was for. She liked it when Max laughed. Her head tilted back, her whole face lit up and she would loose her balance, stumbling sideways into Jane and squeezing her arm. Max made her feel lighter. She forgot about the prickling fear that still lingered under her skin whenever she tried anything new.  
“Which one do you like best?” Asked Max.  
“All of them,” said Jane, grinning.  
“There must be one that feels the best. That really feels like you.”  
“Which one do you like best?” Asked Jane.  
“I think you look amazing in all of them,” said Max, not looking at her. “But its important that you pick the one that feels right for you.”  
Jane didn’t understand why it was important. But Max always knew about these things.  
“I guess I really like this colourful one. What did you call it?”  
“The romper,” said Max, smiling.  
“Yes! I like all the colours and I feel brave when I wear it.”  
“You’re always brave, Jane. You’re the bravest person I know.”  
Jane couldn’t meet her eyes. Max didn’t know everything that had happened to her. She didn’t know how afraid she had been of Papa, of the demogoron, of the mind flayer, of loosing her friends, of that place in her mind where she saw things she didn’t want to see. How afraid she still was of it all.

Jane wore her new outfit to Scoops Ahoy.  
“How come you didn’t get an outfit?” She asked Max.  
“Nothing felt good on me today. It was all too frilly and flowy.” Max pulled at a strand of her hair. “And my hair looks kind of silly with that stuff.”  
Jane looked at her fiercely. “No it does not. You sound like Anne of Green Gables.” Jane was proud at herself for the reference. She had learned from Dustin that it was cool to make comparisons between made up stories and real life. “Your hair is so pretty. Its beautiful. It is the most beautiful hair I have ever seen. Ever.” Jane was staring at Max and her hair so intently that a few red wisps fluttered gently.  
Max stepped back slightly. “Okay, Jane. Okay.” She looked taken aback, but she had a tiny smile in the corner of her mouth. “Lets go eat all the ice cream!”  
She grabbed Jane’s hand and they ran past surprised shoppers, who shuffled and stumbled with their many bags as the girls rushed by them.  
They were giddy and out of breath as they stood in front of the glass, looking into the freezers of colourful ice cream flavours. Steve was cashing out another eager customer and Robin looked at them from behind the freezers, her eyebrows raised.  
“You look like you’ve never seen ice cream before,” said Robin, dryly.  
“She hasn’t,” said Max. “This is her first time.”  
Jane just nodded, looking at all the names of the flavours. “What is gold medal ribbon?”  
“Its a mixture of chocolate, caramel and vanilla,” said Robin.  
“Oh,” said Jane. There were so many flavours. Jane didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t remember any of the suggestions that the boys had called out to her when they were driving away.  
Robin was smiling as Jane concentrated hard on each flavour of ice cream. Jane’s stare was so fierce that for a moment Robin thought that all the ice cream might explode upwards, shatter the glass and splatter their faces.  
Jane looked up at Robin and she liked the way Robin stared at her. Her stare was open and relaxed, but it was also gritty and resolute. Jane immediately knew that if Robin ever met Papa she would spit in his face.  
She liked Robin’s smile, it was kind of crooked and they both had the same length of hair.  
“Cool hair,” said Jane.  
“Thanks,” said Robin. “You too.” Her voice was husky and reassuring and Jane believed her. Jane did have cool hair. They both did. Jane could be cool like Max.  
“Do you want to try any of them, just to see what they taste like?” Max asked, interrupting her intense staring with Robin. “They do samples here.”  
“No,” Jane said. She had an idea. “Which one will make me feel the best?” She asked Robin. “Which one will make me feel like myself?”  
“Chocolate fudge brownie,” said Robin, without hesitation.  
“Okay,” said Jane.  
“Waffle cone or regular?” Asked Robin.  
“The ice cream goes inside the cone so you can lick it without getting all sticky,” Max explained.  
Jane nodded. Eggos were waffles. “Waffle,” she said to Robin.  
“And I’ll have a scoop of the strawberry cheesecake on a regular cone,” said Max.  
Robin began to sculpt the chocolate fudge brownie into an oval scoop and then she plopped it into the waffle cone, pressing it down until it fit snugly inside.  
Jane was mesmerized and Max was smiling at her.  
“You’ve really never had ice cream before?” Robin asked as she handed the cone to Jane.  
“Never,” said Jane.  
“I wish I could go back to the first time I had ice cream,” said Robin, her eyes softening for a moment.  
Max and Robin both watched Jane as she took her first lick. She had tasted whipped cream on eggos before with Hopper, but this was different. It was thicker, creamier, rich and cool on her tongue. The endlessly lavish chocolate fudge ripple smothered the chunks of brownie and filled her mouth with so much gooey goodness.  
And then, all of a sudden, she froze.

The thick, creamy sensation in her mouth ignited the prickling fear under her skin.  
She remembered. The memory rippled through her. She had eaten ice cream once before. How could she have forgotten?  
He had given it to her. Benny. A little container just for her, with a spoon.  
A woman’s icy voice at the door. She recognized that voice. She heard the loud crack of a gun. The woman with the face of stone. Benny was dead. He hit the cold floor with a sickening thud.  
He had helped her. He had been kind to her. And in one second he was dead. She could do that. She could make living people die. But she did not want Benny to die. No. No!  
They were coming for her. In a moment they would see her. She ran. She ran far away from the memory of the spoon clattering to the floor, the ice cream melting uselessly onto the tiles. Benny’s dead body, forever stiff and cold. Cold like the ice cream.  
She had done this. Everyone she came into contact with was in danger. It was her fault. Her fault.  
She was running now. She didn't even realize, but she dropped the beautiful cone that Robin made for her and bolted out of Scoops Ahoy. She stopped at the end of the crowded hallway, panting and clutching her stomach. She tried to breath slowly, in and out, counting to five, like Joyce had taught her.  
Why did she, Jane Hopper, always ruin things? Why did she ruin the beautiful cone that Robin had made for her? Why had she forgotten this memory? Why had she tried to block it all out when she knew it would still come back? It would always come back, whenever she put her guard down. She should never put her guard down.  
She pressed herself tight against the wall, trying to ignore the people staring as they jostled passed her. So many eyes and none of them were kind like Max or reassuring like Robin.  
Robin. She felt a huge wave of that terrible feeling of embarrassment that Nancy had taught her about. Jane Hopper wasn’t cool. Robin would have never run away like that. And Max....what would Max do?  
She would be strong. Max would hold her head up high and walk straight back and clean up her mess.  
She took one last deep breath and clenched her fists, peeling herself away from the wall and back into the crowd of shoppers. 

She saw Max rushing towards her, her red hair flying out behind her. She looked like something wild and untamed in the sea of shoppers and she grabbed Jane’s shoulders, holding her. Holding her.  
Her grip was firm as she looked into Jane’s eyes. Jane’s fists unclenched. She felt a sudden urge to cry as Max searched her face. “Jane, Jane, is everything okay? You had this look of terror on your face and then you just dropped your ice cream and ran. I was really scared for you.”  
Max’s face was filled with so much concern. Why? Why did Max care about her? Why did a cool girl like Max care about her? She felt a single tear at the corner of her eye, it was slipping...  
Max put her hand on Jane’s cheek and caught the tear with her thumb. “Jane, I’m sorry. I know you’ve been through so much stuff that I don’t know about and you don’t have to tell me.” Both her hands had fallen to Jane’s sides again, and she was gently touching Jane’s forearms. She couldn’t look Jane in the eyes. “I just - I really want you to feel safe with me and like you can trust me and I’ll always be here and if there’s ever anything that I can-”  
Jane crushed her in a hug, breathing into her hair and wrapping her arms tightly around Max’s strong torso. “I do feel safe with you, Max.”

They walked back into Scoops Ahoy, Jane gripping Max’s hand firmly. Steve was mopping up her melting ice cream cone. Robin was cashing out another customer.  
“What the heck happened?” Asked Steve, looking confused as always. “Are you guys okay? Where’s Dustin?”  
“We’re fine, Steve,” said Max. “Dustin couldn’t come today. Girls trip!” She clutched Jane’s hand even more tightly. “And thanks for cleaning up. Don’t worry, we’ll pay for the one we dropped.”  
“I’m sorry,” said Jane, looking at Steve with her most intense and earnest stare.  
“Its okay,” Steve said, feeling slightly unnerved by Jane’s stare. “Don’t worry about it. Just be more careful next time.”  
“Hey, dingus! You missed a spot,” said Robin.  
“Yeah, yeah,” muttered Steve.  
Robin looked at Jane, smiling crookedly. “Don’t be too sorry. I never get tired of watching Steve clean things. He’s like this really stressed out mom when her kids make a mess.”  
“Hey!” Steve protested.  
Max laughed and nudged Jane.  
“Can I have another scoop of the chocolate fudge brownie?” Jane asked. “I’ll be more careful this time.”  
Robin raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure? I thought you really hated it.”  
Jane took a a deep breath. “When I licked it, it reminded me that I did have ice cream once before and it wasn’t a good memory. But I really like this ice cream.”  
Robin handed Jane a brand new waffle cone of chocolate fudge brownie and gave Max the strawberry cheesecake cone she had saved in the freezer for her.  
She cashed them out for two cones.  
“What about the one I dropped?” Jane asked. It was only fair that she paid for it. It was a waste of ice cream.  
Robin shrugged. “Its okay, its your first time here. And bad memories are the worst, especially when they come out of nowhere. Don’t sweat it.”  
She liked the way Robin said ‘Don’t sweat it.’  
“Thank you,” said Jane. “You’re really beautiful. Thank you.”  
Robin looked a little embarrassed, but she smiled at Jane.  
Steve looked a little sheepish, as he leaned on the mop, slipping a little on the wet floor.  
Max patted him on the shoulder as they walked past. “Don’t worry, Steve, you’re beautiful too.”  
Jane and Max couldn’t stop laughing as they left Scoops Ahoy.

They rode down the escalator and sat by the edge of the fountain in the food court, licking their ice cream cones. The rushing waterfall inside the fountain was soothing and it drowned out the loud noises of the mall.  
“Was it weird for me to say Robin was beautiful?” Jane asked. “Why did she look embarrassed?”  
“I don’t think so. Robin is really beautiful. Sometimes people just aren’t good at taking compliments.”  
Jane felt something cold on the tip of her nose. Max laughed. “Jane you have ice cream on your nose.”  
Jane put a finger to her nose and wiped it off, licking her finger. “Yummy,” she said giggling. She felt light again. The ice cream was refreshing. It was a new memory.  
She poked her finger into her ice cream cone and then pressed it lightly onto Max’s nose. She giggled as Max swatted her hand away.  
“Hey,” said Max. And so began a poking battle, cool splotches of ice cream dotting their faces and dripping onto the tips of their shoes. Jane pressed her entire cone onto Max’s nose and for a split second it looked like Max had a cone for a nose. Jane couldn’t stop laughing as Max growled at her and pounced, pressing her cone onto Jane’s face.  
Jane shivered with cold and laughed harder, grabbing Max’s arms and wrestling with her, their clothes getting sprayed by the fountain. She noticed a few girls at another table giving them annoyed looks as they slurped on their milkshakes. She frowned.  
Max stopped shoving her mid laugh, still trying to get the Ice Cream off her nose and face. “What’s wrong?”  
“Why are those girls staring?”  
Max rolled her eyes at the group of girls. “They just don’t know how to have fun,” she shrugged.  
“Would this help them?” Asked Jane, and with a simple mental flick one of the girl’s milkshakes flew upwards, splattering her in the face. The other girls gasped.  
Max dropped her cone in surprise.  
“Jane,” she whispered at her, “did you just do that?”  
Jane nodded, feeling suddenly that she had done something wrong. Those girls did not look they were having fun. She had not meant to splatter the whole milk shake onto the girl’s face, only a few splotches so the girl could feel the cool sensation on her skin.  
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” said Jane.  
“Are you kidding? That was awesome!” Said Max, making her smile, “but we gotta go quick.”  
She grabbed Jane’s hand and dragged her out of the food court. They ended up in the ladies washroom, wiping ice cream off of their faces with clumps of paper towel.  
Max was gushing over what Jane had just done. “That was so awesome! Did you see the look on their faces?”  
“Are you sure it wasn’t mean? Joyce says I should never use my powers just to be mean for no reason.”  
“But it wasn’t for no reason. They were giving us dirty looks, and it was harmless. Just a little bit of milkshake in the face,” said Max, still laughing. “You missed a spot,” and Max gently wiped a spot of ice cream off of Jane’s cheek with a piece of paper towel.  
Max’s face was very close, and her hand was soft as she wiped away the spot on Jane’s cheek. Her cheeks were still flushed from running and she smelled like ice cream. Her mouth was in mid laugh and Jane wanted it, she wanted to taste it.  
She leaned in swiftly and kissed Max on the mouth. Max’s lips were exquisite. She wasn’t quite sure what that word meant, but she knew it was the right word to describe Max’s lips.  
When she kissed Max she felt hot sparks jump through her body.  
Mike’s kisses were gentle and he was kind and she felt safe with him, but she did not feel anything like that when she kissed him.  
She wanted to kiss Max again and again. She wanted to make Max blush. She wanted Max to smile out of the corner of her mouth and then look away like she was doing right now.  
Max had stepped back slightly. “Jane, I...why did you?” Max’s eyes darted around the washroom. “We can’t....not in here.”  
“Why not?” said Jane, still looking at the smile in the corner of Max’s mouth and wanting to catch it again with her own. She leaned forwards but Max pushed her away very gently.  
“Jane we.. you can’t just... kiss people.”  
“I’m not kissing people. I kissed you.”  
“I know,” Max’s blush deepened, “but you and Mike are...well you’re together aren’t you? You can’t just kiss me when you and him are....” she trailed off, crumpling paper towel in her hand and not looking Jane in the eyes.  
“But I like kissing you.”  
Her eyes darted up to Jane’s. Then an older woman came into the washroom and her eyes filled with fear. She grabbed Jane’s arm and pulled her out of the washroom.

Max wouldn’t stop pulling Jane along until they were outside of the Mall and walking through the parking lot to the edge of the forest. Max was saying, “there are rules about kissing, Jane. I’ll explain them to you once we get into the forest. We can’t just go around talking about kissing and stuff when other people can listen in. Its more of a private thing. That’s why its special.”  
She dragged her into the forest on a little path, and Jane breathed in deeply as she heard birds calling to each other. The leaves were whispering in the light breeze and the sun created pools of light on the forest floor.  
They found a log under a tree and sat down. Jane could still hear the sounds of the large parking lot in the distance, people’s cars pulling in and out and loud kids running towards the mall’s many doors.  
“Why are there rules? What are the rules? What does Mike have to do with this?” Even as she asked this, Jane knew deep down that Mike did have something to do with this.  
“Look, Jane, Mike is your boyfriend, just like Lucas was my boyfriend before I dumped him. And when you have a boyfriend you can only kiss him, because kissing is special and you’re only supposed to share it with the person that you really like.”  
“But I really like you.”  
“I....but girls don’t really like girls in that way.”  
“What do you mean? In what way?”  
“In the way....in the kissing way.”  
Jane was very confused. Max pulled at a sparkling strand of her red hair, her eyebrows scrunched together, her eyes turned inwards, contemplative.  
“You know the way that you are friends with Lucas and Dustin and Will?”  
“Yes. We’re friends,” said Jane, nodding.  
“Would you ever kiss them?”  
“No.” Jane didn’t know exactly why she was certain of this, but she was certain.  
“So you like them as friends, but you would never kiss them like you would kiss Mike. Its the same with girls. You’re friends with girls but you’re not supposed to kiss them.”  
“But you’re not just a girl. You’re Max, and I like kissing you.”  
Max was going to say something, but then she just looked at Jane, her silvery blue eyes searching Jane’s face. Her hair was fiery in the sunlight, her skin was smooth against her sharp freckles and Jane wanted to kiss her again. Jane really wanted to kiss her.  
Jane kissed her. And Max kissed her back.  
It wasn’t a gentle, safe kiss. It was deeper, fiercer and more vivid. Jane could taste the ice cream. She felt a flare of excitement, an exhilarating thrill rushing through her entire body and she wanted more. She kissed harder, and she gripped Max’s shoulders tightly. Max grasped Jane’s waist with both of her hands. They were squeezing each other’s skin, biting each other’s lips, forgetting to breathe.  
They pulled away. Max’s face was very flushed, her lips swollen and raw from Jane’s lips and she was panting and grinning at Jane. “Shit, holy shit, Jane! I didn’t know kissing could be like that.”  
Jane grinned back. “You taste like ice cream. You taste better then ice cream.” She touched Max’s face, running her fingers down Max’s cheeks.  
Max suddenly had a rare expression of shyness and Jane just had to kiss her soft cheeks and her nose and her lips, until Max said, in between little sighs of pleasure, “Jane, Jane, what about Mike?”  
Jane pulled back. “What about Mike?”  
“Its probably not a good idea for you to keep kissing me like this when Mike still thinks that he’s your boyfriend or whatever. I really want you to,” she said, looking down at the grass, that smile still at the corner of her mouth, “but you can’t be kissing me and dating him at the same time. Its...unfair.”  
“Oh,” said Jane. “Will Mike be mad? I don’t want to upset Mike. What should I do so I can keep kissing you?”  
“I guess you should tell Mike you still really like being his friend, but you don’t want to be his girlfriend anymore, if that’s what you really want.”  
“If it means I can kiss you, then yes.”  
Max was smiling wider now, but her eyes stayed fixed on the patch of grass at her feet.  
“But I don’t think you need to tell Mike we kissed or anything like that. Because that might upset him and confuse him.”  
“Okay,” said Jane.  
Max shoved her in the shoulder. “Stop being cute.”  
“You stop,” said Jane, a smile growing on her face. She grabbed Max and pushed her down onto the forest floor.  
“Hey,” Max yelped, sticking out her foot and tripping Jane, who landed on her hands and knees.  
Jane grabbed a handful of dirt, crushing it between her fingers and rubbing into Max’s beautiful hair, laughing devilishly.  
“You little shit.” Max pounced on her, smearing dirt on Jane’s face.  
They continued this battle of shoving and shouting and dirt smearing until they collapsed, exhausted, in the dirt.  
Max rested her head on Jane’s stomach and Jane gently ran a finger down Max’s nose. They were silent for awhile, staring up into the web of branches that was woven across the bright blue sky above them.  
“I’m sorry that I haven’t told you things,” said Jane, very softly. “I want to tell you things. I just don’t know how to talk about it. I’ve been writing things down. Joyce helps me do it. She says the more I write the bad memories down on paper, the less they’ll stick in my head. I’ll let you read them.”  
Max took Jane’s hand and kissed it. 

When Joyce picked them up she scolded them for getting so dirty. But she loved the outfit Jane had chosen. She said the dirt would come out no problem in the wash.  
She dropped Max off first and Max squeezed Jane’s hand as she left. Jane couldn’t stop smiling all the way home.  
“I’m glad you had such a good time,” said Joyce, as they pulled up the long dirt drive to Jane’s house.  
Chief Jim Hopper was sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette, he stood up and stamped out the cigarette when he saw them coming.  
He grinned at Joyce, who got out of the car with Jane.  
“I called your house and Mike told me about the girls trip.” He looked pleased. Jane ran to him and jumped into his arms. Squeezing him in a hug.  
He grinned wider, lifting Jane off of her feet. “What’s this?! I should’ve taken you to the mall sooner.”  
She was beaming at him as he put her down. “Cool outfit,” he said.  
“I know. I picked it. It feels right for me.”  
He ruffled her hair. “You’re covered in dirt.”  
“Don’t sweat it. It will come out of the wash no problem,” said Jane.  
Hopper laughed. “I’m sure it will. Now go get in the shower and put your new outfit in the laundry basket. I’ll wash it for you in a bit.”  
“Okay!” She kissed his cheek and ran in the house.  
“What the hell is so special about this mall? I haven’t seen her so happy in weeks.” Hopper sat down on the porch again, and he handed Joyce a cigarette. “And since when is she saying ‘don’t sweat it’ and ‘no problem’?”  
Joyce laughed, and sat down beside him, taking the cigarette. “‘No problem’ was from me and she must’ve learned ‘don’t sweat it’ from Max. I like that girl. She’s a really good friend to Jane. She really makes Jane feel like a normal girl I think. I’m glad you’re not upset. She was writing about that horrible man again today. The one she calls Papa. And it just made my blood boil. I thought it was time for her to go out and hang around at the mall like a regular teenager. Sometimes I feel bad for making her write all of these horrible memories down even though I know its good for her.”  
Hopper sighed, lighting her cigarette and then his own. “I know. I’m glad you did. I’m still selfish sometimes about her. I need to let her experience things. Sometimes I can’t even stand to read her notebook when she shows it to me. I just want to throw it across the room. The spelling mistakes make it even more painful. Because they deprived her of that! My daughter, Sara, was such a good speller.” He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes a little blurry. “I’m glad she’s friends with Max now. She didn’t like her at first. She used to complain to me about her all the time to me. I think she was just jealous of her. I kept telling her to give Max a chance. I’m glad she finally listened.”  
“You always know what to say to her, Jim. Sometimes I feel like half of the things I say go in one ear and out the other. Today she said to me that people lie to themselves about things. She said that you told her that.”  
“Oh..yeah,” Hopper chuckled, looking a little embarrassed. “I was talking more to myself then to her, but yeah I said that.”  
“She really seemed to be thinking about it, though. She said that she lies to herself sometimes, but when she writes things down she has to tell the truth. That was the first time she’s really expressed that writing these things down is actually helpful for her!”  
“She said that. Damn! That kid really listens. She’s so smart, Joyce. Soon she’s going to figure out that we don’t really know anything and she’s going to leave us in the dust.”  
Joyce laughed. “Sometimes I feel like that about Will. He’s seen so much and he’s been through so much. They both have. And they’re so brave. They’re so brave! But then I have to remind myself that we’re strong too. We’ve seen a lot of things. And look at us. We’re pretty bad ass.” She nudged Hopper’s shoulder.  
He chuckled. “You are, Joyce. You always have been. Even in highschool. You were a tough, sexy badass and you took no one’s bullshit, not even mine.”  
Joyce laughed, blushing and choking a little on her cigarette smoke. “Oh please! I fell for Lonnie’s bull shit. I was no badass with him.” Her face became serious. “He really fucked me up, Jim. I lied to myself so much with him.”  
“I know, and I fucked up with Diane after Sara..." He sighed. "We all lie to ourselves.” He was looking at her with such directness and then that devilish smile appeared on his face. But he didn’t have the same arrogance he used to. There was something almost vulnerable about the way he was looking at her.  
She glided her fingers lightly across the stubble on his cheek. “I like this,” she said, and she kissed his cheek.  
He threw his cigarette away and pulled her into his lap. He kissed her neck and her collar bone. His bristly cheek scraping at her skin. She tossed away her cigarette and just let him bite her for a moment. Then she spun around and clawed her fingers through his hair, kissing him hard on the mouth, biting his bottom lip until he groaned deep in his throat. His hands gripped her around the waist and she was already so turned on.  
She pulled away. “Not now, Jim. Dinner later this week? Jane can stay at the Wheeler’s. I’ll come here.” She grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head back until he moaned. “Okay?!” She said, kissing his Adam’s apple, before turning away.  
“Fuuuck, Joyce. Fuck you.” He smacked her ass before she walked back to her car.  
She laughed. “Go do your laundry, Hopper!” 

Jane took a long, soothing shower. It was so satisfying to feel the dirt oozing out of her hair, and watch it drip down her skin and swirl into a puddle at her feet before slipping down the drain. It was almost as satisfying as getting dirty in the first place. But not quite.  
When she was done she put on some sweat pants and one of Jim’s big, cozy sweaters. He had washed her new outfit and it was hanging up to dry on the door of her closet. She just stood there, looking at her new outfit and smiling. She could hear Jim whistling as he made their supper.  
Then she sat on her bed and opened her notebook, pulling out the drawing of Max that Will had given her. She took out her pencil and wrote on the back of the drawing:  
_Max is a wild girl with flaming red hair and soft red eyebrows. She is a zoomer and a skateboarder. She is stubborn and strong and she makes me feel brave. She has kind, blue eyes and a beautiful nose. Her lips are exquisite._  
She looked up every word in her dictionary to make sure she spelled it right. She put the drawing under her pillow.  
Then she pulled out her notebook and wrote:  
_The first time I ate ice cream was a sad day. Benny died. I wish Benny did not die. He was kind to me.  
Today I ate ice cream with Max. Today I kissed Max. Kissing Max is better then ice cream._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "...Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive -- it's such an interesting world. It wouldn't be half so interesting if we knew all about everything, would it? There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there?" - L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables


	3. WILL BYERS

The boys groaned and griped around the Byers yard, pummeling each other and complaining that they needed more than four people to play Ultimate Ninja. They went inside and looked around for snacks.  
“I can’t believe I forgot half my stash at home,” Dustin moaned. “I only have two chocolate bars, which is definitely not enough to feed you monsters.”  
“Come on, Will, you must have something,” complained Lucas. “I’m starving.”  
“We could try cooking something,” suggested Will.  
“Like any of us knows how to cook,” scoffed Mike.  
“I know how to make cookies,” said Will, proudly. “And macaroni.”  
“Wow, Will the Chef,” said Mike mockingly, rumpling Will’s hair.  
“That will take too long,” Lucas groaned. “Does your mom have anything hidden?”  
“No, you know she never hides stuff from me and Jonathan,” said Will. “She’s not like your mom, Lucas.”  
“Hey! If my mom didn’t hide our snacks and sweets, Erica would devour them in one sitting.”  
Dustin laughed. “That’s true. She’s always hanging around Scoops Ahoy, bugging Steve and Robin for samples. It drives them nuts.”  
“What about Jonathan’s room?” suggested Mike.  
Before Will could stop them, they all rushed into Jonathan’s room and rummaged around until they found a secret stash of chips, chocolate bars, gummy bears and licorice.  
“The man does not disappoint,” said Dustin, approvingly.  
“He probably buys a lot of these for Nancy. She has a serious sweet tooth,” said Mike. He snatched up a bag of chips.  
Will tried to stop him. “Heyyy wait, Jonathan’s going to -”  
But Mike had already opened the chips and was shoving them in his face. He grinned at Will, who was looking at him angrily. “Bite me, Byers,” he said.  
Will rolled his eyes and shoved Mike, who toppled sideways onto Jonathan’s bed, still clutching the bag of chips. “Curse these long limbs!” Mike whined dramatically. “Hey, what’s this?” he asked, pulling an empty silver packet out of Jonathan’s sheets.  
“Duuude,” Dustin screamed, “don’t touch that!”  
Mike dropped it like a hot coal and jumped out of Jonathan’s bed. “What the hell, Dustin? What is it?”  
“Its an empty condom packet, duh!” said Dustin, as if this was the most obvious thing. “And if its empty, then that means....”  
They all looked at Dustin blankly. “Are you guys shitting me?! You don’t know what condoms are? Awww you’re all such innocent little fools!”  
“Shut up, Dustin,” shouted Lucas, “just tell us what they are.”  
“Fucking shit,” said Dustin, looking frazzled. He put on his best teacher’s voice. “A condom is a thin rubber sheath that is used during sex to cover a man’s penis.” He sounded like he was reciting from a dictionary or a textbook.  
“Dustin!” Mike threw a pillow in his face, grimacing. Lucas looked intrigued. Will had never felt so uncomfortable. He stared hard at the carpet, willing this conversation to be over. It was not to be.  
“Sooo wait..” said Lucas. “You mean every time a guy has sex he has to put one of those on his...you know..”  
“No, not always. Its to protect from pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases,” Dustin explained.  
“Ughhh, Dustin!” Mike looked like he wanted to throw up into the bag of chips he was still holding.  
“But I don’t get how -”  
“Lucas stop encouraging him,” Mike groaned.  
“What?!” snapped Lucas. “This is important. We’re going to highschool this year. We need to know this stuff.”  
“I guess,” Mike grumbled.  
Will was being as still and silent as possible. He wished he had the power to make himself disappear. He wanted to shrink into the carpet.  
“I still don’t get it,” continued Lucas. “How would it protect the woman from getting pregnant?”  
“Oh my god, Lucas!” Dustin exclaimed. “Do I really need to spell it out for you?”  
“Yes! I’d rather you then my Dad. Every time he tries to talk to me about sex, he ends up saying shit about bees and flowers and then he just says,” Lucas’ voice became mockingly emotional, "‘its a beautiful thing that you’ll experience someday, son.’”  
“What the fuck? Bees?” Mike looked very confused. “My Dad just says that when it happens I’ll figure it out. And then he says ‘but not under my watch, young man!’”  
Dustin put his hand over his face, exasperated. “Oh my god. I can’t believe this! Shit, okay. Okay. So...when a man puts his penis into a woman’s -”  
“Holy fuck, Dustin! Can you not -” Mike protested.  
“Shut up, Mike,” said Lucas. “Keep going.”  
“When a man,” Dustin was practically shouting in frustration now, “puts his penis into a woman’s vagina, and they have sex, the protective covering of the condom prevents the man from ejaculating his sperm into her vagina!”  
Mike covered his ears. “Can you stop saying vagina! We get it now! We get it!”  
“Thank god! Now give me the fucking chips,” Dustin demanded.  
“How can you eat after talking about that?” Mike asked, gingerly handing him the bag of chips.  
“Oh my god, Mike. Grow up! Lucas is right. We’re going to high school this year. We need to know these things.”  
Lucas had a contemplative look on his face. “So that means that Jonathan and Nancy have been having sex in this room. Will, did you know they were having sex?”  
“Can we please just get the fuck out of my brother’s room!” Will shouted. It came out much louder then he had intended. He could feel his hands trembling slightly and he balled them into fists. All three boys were staring at him. He never used the F word.  
“Will, are you okay?” Mike asked.  
Will hated the way Mike was looking at him. “I just don’t like thinking about my brother having sex, okay!”  
“Okay, we get it. I don’t like thinking about my sister having sex with your brother.” Mike made a gagging face and shoved Will playfully as he headed out of Jonathan’s room. They all followed.

Will rummaged frantically through the board games cabinet, trying to think of anything else they could do. Anything!  
Mike was splayed out on the couch, with Lucas perched on the end, and Dustin was sitting in the plush arm chair eating chips.  
“So where did you learn about all this, anyways?” Lucas asked Dustin.  
“Steve, obviously! The perk of having a friend who is older than you and actually knows things.”  
Mike laughed. “Steve’s kind of an idiot, Dustin.”  
“Hey!” Dustin pouted. “Yeah well...he knows about some things. He said we would have to practice putting a condom on a banana in one of our health classes in highschool.”  
“Ewww gross,” Mike moaned. “You mean we have to have this talk all over again in class.”  
“Yup,” said Dustin.  
“Balderdash,” said Will.  
“What?” Mike asked. They all looked at Will, confused.  
“The game! We could play Balderdash.”  
“No, I’m too lazy,” said Mike, languishing dramatically on the couch. “And I can’t believe I didn’t think to take Jane out for ice cream,” he groaned.  
“Its not your fault, Mike,” said Lucas. “Hopper wouldn’t let Jane go to Starcourt Mall until now. And technically it was Joyce who let her go, not Hopper. He doesn’t even know.”  
“I know,” Mike sighed in frustration. “But I should have taken her anyways, or just bought ice cream for her, or taken her on a picnic with ice cream, or even asked her if she’d tried it before, or anything...I’m such an idiot!”  
“Dude, no you’re not. At least she still likes you and you’re still dating,” said Lucas, glumly.  
Dustin patted Lucas’ knee. “There are plenty of other fish in the sea,” he said.  
“Shut up, Grandpa,” said Lucas, grabbing the chips from Dustin and munching on them sadly.  
Just then the phone rang. Mike jumped up. “Maybe its Jane! Maybe they’re in trouble. Maybe she blew up Scoops Ahoy!”  
For a split second Dustin actually looked worried and Lucas cackled with laughter, as Mike answered the phone.

“Hello.”  
“Hello, who is this?” It was Hopper.  
“Its Mike, sir.”  
“Oh-ho Hi Mike. Is Joyce there? Does she want me to come and pick up Jane when my shift ends?”  
“No she um...she went grocery shopping and um..she actually took Jane and Max to the mall.”  
“She did what?!” Hopper yelled into the phone.  
Mike looked pleadingly at the boys for help. “Getting Jane a new outfit. Girls trip,” Will whispered loudly to him.  
“She..um..” Mike continued, “thought it might be nice for Jane and Max to have a girls trip together and get Jane a new outfit.”  
“And ice cream,” Dustin mouthed.  
“And get ice cream, because she’s never had it before,” Mike added.  
“A girls trip, huh?” Hopper sounded contemplative. “So they’re at the Mall now?”  
“Yes, sir. I think so.”  
“That Joyce, she really knows how to...well...okay then. Okay. Girls trip. Girls trip.” It felt like Hopper was talking to himself.  
“Uh-huh,” Mike said.  
“Well okay, Mike. Just tell Joyce to call me if there are any problems and I expect Jane to be back for supper.”  
“Okay, I will, sir.”  
“Okay, thanks Mike. Bye.” He hung up.

Mike breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought he would be more upset.”  
“He must be happy because Jane’s not with you,” teased Lucas.  
“Shut up!” Mike grabbed one of the chocolate bars from Jonathan’s room and languished back onto the couch.  
“We could watch Ghostbusters,” suggested Will. He wanted to cheer Mike up. He hated the look of sadness in Mike’s deep brown eyes, even if he was being a bit dramatic. Mike reminded Will of something out of a Shakespeare play, the way he was splayed out on the couch like that.  
Mike sat up eagerly at Will’s suggestion. He grinned at Will. “Yes! I haven’t seen it in ages.”  
“By ages, do you mean months?” scoffed Dustin. “Because we just watched it a few months ago.”  
“Oh come on!” said Mike. “Pleease, Dusty bun,” he whined. It was what Susie called Dustin. He looked at Dustin with his saddest, puppy dog eyes, and his biggest pout. It was a look none of them could resist.  
“Fuck you, Wheeler,” said Dustin.  
“Who ya gonna call?” asked Lucas.  
“Ghostbusters!” shouted Dustin, grinning. He couldn’t help it.  
Mike jumped up and launched himself at Will in full tickle mode. “Who ya gonna call?” he asked.  
Will was trying to put Ghostbusters in the VHS player. “Miiike, stop,” he protested, trying not to laugh and punching Mike’s arm.  
“Who ya gonna call, Byers?”  
“Ghostbusters,” Will muttered, smiling in spite of himself.  
“I couldn’t hear you,” shouted Lucas.  
“Once more, with feeling!” Said Dustin.  
Mike had stopped tickling him. He was on all fours on the carpet and his face was very close. He grinned at Will and whispered, “Who ya gonna call?”  
“Ghostbusters!” Will shouted, shoving Mike into the carpet and pushing in the VHS tape.  
They both rushed back to the couch as the movie started. Dustin turned off the lights.  
Will was squished in between Mike and Lucas on the couch. Dustin retained his thrown on the plush armchair.  
They laughed and laughed as if they’d never seen it before, hurling insults at the characters they hated and competing on who could quote the most lines. Mike won by far. He knew every word. And Will just laughed at him and enjoyed being close to them all again.  
He could feel Mike’s body shaking with laughter beside him. During the scene when Dana turns into Zuul, The Gatekeeper of Gozer, Mike scrunched himself up like a ball, hugging his knees. He leaned into Will’s shoulder and whispered, “there is no Dana, only Zuul.”  
When the movie ended and the credits rolled, Dustin jumped up. “I’ve gotta go. Its almost dinnertime and I have to get back so I can call Susie.”  
Lucas jumped up too. “Yeah, I've got to go too. My mom wants me to be home for dinner and I have church tomorrow.”  
Mike had settled his head contentedly on Will’s shoulder and he didn’t move. “You guys suuuck,” he moaned.  
“Whatever dude,” said Dustin. “It was good to see you, Will.”  
“Yeah, thanks for having us,” said Lucas.  
They both headed outside, hopped on their bikes and rode off into the growing dusk.

Will and Mike let the credits play. Mike stretched himself out on the couch, resting his legs in Will’s lap.  
“I’ll never get tired of that movie,” he said, yawning. “Spengler has such great hair.”  
Will smiled, resting his arms on Mike’s bare shins. He looked at Mike’s tousled hair and his contented expression as he watched the credits roll by and sang softly under his breath to the song. Will felt guilty for some reason.  
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to go to the mall with Jane,” he said, quietly.  
Mike turned to look at him. “Its okay. It was probably better for her to go with Max for the first time anyway. And I’m glad I’m here,” Mike smiled, “with you.” He poked Will’s stomach with his foot.  
“I’m sorry I’m not as fun as I used to be,” said Will.  
“What are you talking about?” Mike sat up, sliding his legs off of Will’s lap and scooting closer to him. “You are so fun. You’re always doing things like drawing and creating things, and reading and playing games, and even cooking, apparently. You always have these great ideas and these wise thoughts going through your head.”  
Will felt himself blushing a little. “That is not true! Sometimes I do those things, but not like I used to. I get why you’ve been avoiding me, Mike. Its because I have all this pain and fear still inside me from the upside down and from the mind flayer. I get it now. I must be pretty depressing and frustrating to be around because I’m still stuck in this strange place between fantasy and reality. I’m always afraid and I feel so empty and hollow inside. Even now, when I’m telling you this, its just making you sad and I don’t want you to be sad every time you’re with me.”  
“But I’m not sad when I’m with you, Will!" Mike Protested. "Even when you tell me about what you’re going through, its sad, but that doesn’t matter because I just like being with you. And I wasn’t avoiding you because of that...I....its more complicated then - but the point is, you’re so easy to be around because you are always yourself and -”  
“No I’m not, Mike. I don’t even know what myself is anymore. Who is Will the Wise? I don’t know. The mind flayer sucked all the life out of him and I’m all that’s left.”  
“That is such bullshit, Will. I don’t care how fucking powerful that stupid fucking son of a bitch was, you’re still you. You’re still in there. Will the Wise is a force of fucking nature!”  
“But you weren’t there, Mike!” Will was almost shouting, his whole body shaking. Why was Mike saying these things? “You weren’t there when my mom and Nancy and Jonathan had to burn him out of me. I wasn’t in there, Mike. It was like I was watching from outside my body. I was watching myself try to strangle my own, Mom. And when he vanished into the sky he left me completely hollow inside. At any moment I feel like I might just collapse into a pile of ashes and vanish with him. Sometimes I want to.”  
“Don’t say that.”  
“I don’t mean – I didn’t mean...I just meant that I sometimes get overwhelmed by everything because I can’t really feel anything.”  
Mike was listening so intently, trying to understand.  
“Look, this might sound weird,” Will continued, “but my body kind of feels like a blank piece of paper. And all I want to do is take control of the pencil and draw something onto it. But instead I just keep getting hit with all these overwhelming splashes of colour and these big emotions and I can’t do anything with them. I can’t make the drawing mine. Things just happen on the blank sheet of paper, they just hit me, but I can’t feel them for long enough to create a picture. I see things, I feel things, but then they vanish out of my grasp and I feel blank and hollow again. Does that make sense?”  
“I think so. But I don’t think you’re hollow or blank, Will. You might feel like you are, but even just the way you’re talking about this, the way you’re describing it...its....you say things so wisely even when you don’t feel them. You’re like one of your own drawings, so detailed and colourful and just – god I sound like an idiot! But I don’t know how else to describe it. You’re not a blank piece of paper, Will. You’re like a whole fucking art gallery.”  
“I’m an art gallery?” asked Will.  
“Yeah you know, your mind is, or whatever. I don’t know. Fuck, it made more sense in my head. See! You’re better at describing these things.” Mike was tapping his foot on the carpet, scrunching the fabric of his shorts with one hand, and looking uncomfortable.  
“No, I like it. I hadn’t thought about it like that before. I -” Will stood up abruptly.  
“What?” Mike stood up too, almost knocking Will over.  
“I have an idea,” said Will, his face alight. He ran to his room, Mike close behind him.

He began pulling out all of the drawings he had made in the past several months when he couldn’t sleep. He started handing them to Mike, who was staring at him wide eyed.  
“Just take them and start taping them up all around my room. The tape is over there,” he said breathlessly, pulling the drawings out of his sketchbook, looking for loose sheets in his closet, under his desk, hidden inside books or binders. All of the pictures he had drawn since the mind flayer left his body.  
Mike started taping them up on the walls, admiring them silently. It was best not to hound Will when he was so focused and flurrying about like this. Mike had never seen any of these. Will hadn’t shown him any of his drawings since the mind flayer.  
These drawings were in a completely different style. There were no elaborate landscapes, or fantasy worlds, or magical creatures, or rainbow ships, or even their D&D characters fighting off monsters.  
They were all drawings of faces. Mike was familiar with most of the faces. There were several drawings of Joyce Byers, and several of Jonathan, all with different expressions and in different shades and colours. There was one of Steve looking perplexed, Nancy looking angry, Dustin in mid laughter, Lucas looking stubborn, Jane’s death stare, Holly with wide eyed curiosity, and Erica smirking up at him. Chief Hopper glowered at Mike from the paper, with a cigarette perched between his teeth. Mr. Clark stared eagerly up at him, about to burst out of the paper with a new scientific theory he wanted to share with the class.  
There was even one of Mike’s dad with that stupid expression of disappointment mixed with boredom.  
Mike had felt that expression from his Dad so many times and it always made him shrink a little on the inside, as if there was something about him that was never good enough, or interesting enough for his Dad. But as he looked at this drawing, Mike felt some of the pain of that expression wash away. Now that he could see it captured on a piece of paper, it just looked kind of stupid and insignificant. How had Will been able to capture this? It was amazing. Will was amazing.  
There were so many of them. All of the people that Will knew best had the most pictures. Mike taped up a whole wall of Joyce and Jonathan’s various expressions and moods. There was a series of Jane’s subtle changes in intense death glares and telekinesis stares, and only one that showed a tiny hint of her smile. Max’s drawings all featured her prominently changing eyebrow shapes, from a laugh to a fierce grimace. Dustin had a series on his mischievous, toothless grins and his varying states of exasperation. Lucas had a series on his most charming, and cheeky smiles and his most unimpressed scowls.  
There were also many drawings of Mike, himself. Lazy Mike, sleepy Mike, excited Mike, annoyed Mike, angry Mike, crying Mike, goofy Mike.  
Each drawing was so detailed, with sharp edges and burred lines, and colours bleeding into each other to create the mood within each face. Some faces were shrouded in grayer shades, others sparkled or shimmered, touched by an unseen shaft of light.  
And the eyes. The eyes almost scared Mike. They were like deep pools of living colour and light. Mike felt like he was really staring into each person’s face. It was almost like magic.  
Most of them were done with pencils and pencil crayons, but even the blurrier ones, that were done with crayons or pastels, were dazzling in their depth.  
When they finished taping them all over Will’s walls, they stepped into the middle of the room and spun around slowly looking at all of them.  
“Art gallery,” breathed Will.

And it was an art gallery. An art gallery of different moods, of different states of being. Splashes of emotions on each wall, swirling within each cluster of portraits. When Will and Mike took it all in at once, it was as if they could feel each series of moods and expressions emanating from the walls.  
It was an overwhelming sensation, feeling all the emotions of these people, so many eyes staring at them.  
“Will, its so much...I...how did you even...?”  
Will’s eyes were so full. “I don’t know, Mike. But this is it! I didn’t even realize I was piecing this together, drawing by drawing. I was creating an art gallery of faces to capture everything I couldn’t feel. I...this is me...somehow. I don’t even really understand it.”  
“They’re all so...so amazing...I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Just then, they heard Joyce’s car pulling up the drive way and she was honking her horn and shouting out for them to help her carry the groceries inside the house. They tore themselves away from Will’s room, shutting the door behind them.  
“I bought pizza,” said Joyce. “I’m feeling too tired to make a full dinner tonight. I hope you don’t mind.”  
“Of course we don’t mind, mom,” said Will, beaming at her.  
“You’re looking cheerful this evening,” she said, ruffling Will’s hair. “Are you sleeping over tonight, Mike?”  
“I guess so,” said Mike, grinning at Will.  
Will beamed back at him.  
They helped put the groceries away and then they sat down in front of the TV. Joyce took her pizza outside to read under the porch light.  
The boys didn’t even turn on the TV. They just sat facing each other on the couch, grinning and gobbling up their pizza.  
“Will,” said Mike, in between greasy mouthfuls, “can you teach me how to make cookies?”  
Will laughed, almost choking on his pizza. “Really? Now you want to make cookies. I thought you said it would take too long and you were too lazy.”  
“I was feeling lazy earlier, but I’m not anymore. I want to do something. I want to make something. I want to make cookies.”  
“Okay,” said Will, giving him a quizzical smile.  
“What? Why can’t I want to make cookies? Its a useful skill.”  
“Doesn’t your mom bake all the time? Hasn’t she ever taught you?” questioned Will.  
“She tried a few times. But I always get too impatient.”  
“So now I’ll have to deal with your impatience.”  
Mike kicked Will’s foot. “I’ll be patient this time. I promise.”  
“Sure you will.” But Will finished the last few bites of his pizza and starting getting the ingredients out. “What do you want to make? Chocolate chip?”  
“Duh,” said Mike and he hopped off the couch and started following Will around the kitchen and getting in his way.  
“We need two bowls,” said Will. “One for the dry ingredients and one for the wet ingredients.”  
“This isn’t a science experiment. Its cookies. Can’t we just put it all into one bowl? It’ll go faster.”  
“No, Mike,” Will pushed him aside. He was standing in the way again. “We are not rushing this. They have to be perfect. And technically this is like a science experiment. We’re mixing together different ingredients to make a new substance.”  
Mike laughed. “If you say so, Will the Wise.”  
Will shoved an apron into Mike’s hand, and began putting one on himself.  
“Will, I’m not going to wear a fucking -”  
“Just put it on, Mike. Do you want to get flour all over yourself?”  
“Okay, whatever. You’re the cook,” Mike began fumbling with his apron.  
“Here, let me help you tie it,” said Will, pulling at the strings around Mike’s waist. Will tried not to smile at the sight of Mike in an apron.  
“What? I look like an idiot, don’t I?” said Mike, looking down at the blue striped apron that was too small for him.  
“No,” said Will, but he couldn’t help a small smile. “You’re just a little too tall for it. These aprons are meant for shorter people, like my mom.”  
“It looks good on you,” said Mike. “You look like a real Chef.”  
Will could feel himself blushing at the way Mike was looking at him. He quickly turned back to the ingredients.  
“Lets start with the dry ingredients,” he said hastily.  
“If you say so, Will the Chef.”  
Will was very precise with each of the measurements. Mike would just dig the measuring cup into the flour bag and then dump it in the bowl, but Will taught him to flatten the flour into the measuring cup with a knife.  
“It has to be exact.”  
“Okay, Jeeez,” said Mike, elbowing him.  
“Miiiike, you’re getting it all over the counter.”  
“Wiiiill, now its in my hair too,” said Mike as he patted his powdered hand onto his head so his hair was dusted with flour. “Do I look like an old man?”  
“No Mike, you look ridiculous,” said Will, groaning in exasperation.  
Mike ran his hand through Will’s hair and Will the jumped out of the way too late. “Mike!” The pouf of powder made Will sneeze.  
Mike just grinned down at him. “I didn’t know cooking could be so fun.”  
“We’ve barely started and now we have to wash our hands again because its not good to touch your hair when cooking.”  
Mike shrugged, put his hand inside the flour bag, opened his powdery palm and blew it in Will’s face.  
“Mike! You -” SNEEEZE, “asshole!”  
“Watch your language young man,” said Mike in a high pitched voice.  
Will launched himself at him, grabbing both his arms and pushing him against the counter. For a moment Mike didn’t even retaliate, he just looked down at Will’s face which was at the level of Mike’s chin.  
“Will, you have flour in your eyelashes,” said Mike softly.  
“Oh,” Will breathed, and he stepped back quickly and began to rub at his face and his hair, little poufs of flower emanating from him.  
Mike was still leaning against the counter, smiling at him.  
“What?” said Will.  
“Nothing. I should probably wash my hands so we can actually make these cookies.”  
They both stood at the kitchen sink, fighting over who’s hands were underneath the spout and flicking each other with droplets of water.  
They finally finished mixing all the ingredients together, after a mishap with the eggs which involved Mike crushing an egg with his clumsy fingers and having to pick all of the shards of eggshell out of the bowl of wet ingredients. Mike did manage to crack one egg successfully on the edge of the bowl, and he was extremely proud of himself, looking at Will for approval with his big, dark eyes.  
“Well done my young apprentice,” teased Will, patting him on the shoulder.

When they were mixing the wet ingredients into the dry, Joyce came back inside the house.  
“You boys are baking cookies? With aprons and everything?” She grinned at them and kissed Will on the cheek. “I’m going to take a bath and then I’m going to bed. Don’t burn the house down!”  
“We won’t, mom,” groaned Will. “I know how to make cookies!”  
“I know,” she kissed him on the cheek again.  
“Mom!”  
“I’m sorry sweetie, I just can’t help it. You look so adorable in that apron.”  
“Oh my god, mom.”  
Joyce laughed. “Save some for me,” she said. 

Mike chewed on chunks of the cookie dough while Will greased the tin baking pan. Will showed him how to form a perfect ball of dough and then press it gently onto the pan.  
Mike tried to form a few himself, but Will always slapped his hand away as he tried to place his deformed lumps onto the baking pan.  
Mike gave up, preferring to watch Will carefully rolling each piece of dough and patting it softly when he placed it on the pan, so that it flattened into a perfect circle.  
“They can’t be too wide, or too lumpy, or they won’t cook consistently and they might attach themselves to each other when they rise,” said Will sternly.  
“Whatever you say, Will the Chef,” said Mike, trying not to laugh.  
“Don’t eat all the cookie dough, Mike!” Will scolded him, snatching the bowl out of his reach.  
“Aw come on! Its the best part. You should try some, just to make sure it tastes good,” said Mike, grinning.  
“I already know it tastes good because I followed the recipe exactly. And I don’t like the thought of consuming raw eggs.”  
“Come on, it won’t kill you and its just so gooey and yummy.” Mike held out a spoonful of cookie dough enticingly in front of Will’s face.  
Will snatched the spoon from Mike and gingerly ate the gooey chunk of cookie dough. “Its.....perfect. But I don’t like it,” he said, swallowing it with a painful gulp.  
“What does that even mean? How -”  
“I mean that once its cooked it will be perfect, but I don’t like the texture,” Will shuddered. “There’s raw egg in that, Mike. If I get food poisoning I’m blaming you.” He fixed Mike with a stern look.  
Mike rolled his eyes. “You barely had any, Will. If anyone is getting food poisoning, its me and if I’m stuck on the toilet with the shits later, I think it was still worth it.”  
“That’s disgusting.”  
Mike just leaned on the counter, looking at Will with his infuriating grin. Will ignored him, turning back to the cookies. He was quite pleased with his perfect circles of cookie dough and placed the two tin baking pans into the oven.  
“And now we wait,” said Will.  
They both took off their aprons.  
Mike knelt down in front of the oven dramatically. “This is the worst part. I wish they could just magically pop out of the oven and into my mouth. I’m soooo hungry!”  
“We just had pizza and you ate a ton of cookie dough.”  
“I know, but I’m always hungry,” said Mike, clutching his stomach as if he hadn’t eaten in days.  
“The best part is the waiting, because then they taste even more satisfying when you eat them.”  
Mike looked up at Will incredulously. “You’re crazy Byers! Craaaazy!” Then his face shot back towards the oven door. “Hey! wouldn’t it be crazy if El - I mean Jane – could cook things with her mind?!”  
Will didn’t know why, but he sighed a little, feeling the emptiness creeping back. “That’s insane, Mike. Cooking superpowers?! I think you’re the crazy one.”  
Mike laughed a little, still sitting on the kitchen floor and staring absently at the oven door, willing the cookies to cook faster. “We’ll go crazy together, remember that?” he looked up at Will, hugging his knees to his chest.  
“I remember,” said Will.  
“I was so afraid for you that day. I just – you were experiencing all this crazy shit and I just wanted to protect you somehow. It was stupid really - we’ll go crazy together - what was I thinking?!” One of his hands clawed at his thick black hair.  
Will sat down on the kitchen floor beside him. “No, Mike,” he said earnestly. Mike wouldn’t meet his gaze. “It wasn’t stupid at all,” Will continued. “You saying that to me, it really helped. It was the perfect thing to say.”  
He awkwardly patted Mike’s shoulder and Mike glanced at him, half smiling, his knees still tucked up to his chin.  
“And just you being there and really listening to me was enough. It really was.”  
“Oh. Okay. I – I’m glad,” Mike said, almost sighing in relief.  
They sat silently side by side on the floor for several minutes.

Mike nudged Will’s shoulder. “Should we check the cookies? They smell like they might be ready.”  
“How would you know?”  
“I’ve got plenty of experience smelling cookies. My mom bakes them all the time. Especially when she stressed out about things, which is a lot.”  
Sure enough, the cookies were ready. They had risen nicely and Will thought they looked like they could be on the cover of a recipe book or a cooking magazine.  
Will handed Mike a cookie and he gobbled it up hungrily, making appreciative sounds as he continued to lounge on the kitchen floor.  
“These are fucking delicious,” he said, licking the melting chocolate off his fingers.  
Will almost tripped over him as he rummaged around the kitchen, looking for a tin cookie box.  
“I know,” said Will smugly, chewing on one as he put several cookies on a plate for him and Mike and stored the rest in the tin cookie box.  
Suddenly, Mike jumped up from the floor in one fluid motion, almost knocking Will over. He stood so close to Will, looking down at him, really looking at him.  
Will looked at the floor.  
Mike poked his cheek and Will flinched. “I want to look at your drawings again,” he said, softly. “You have drawing superpowers.”  
Will laughed a little nervously, stepping back slightly from Mike’s nearness. “No I don’t, Mike.”  
“Yes you do! Come on!” Mike snatched the plate of cookies and rushed off to Will’s room.

Will left the tin cookie box on the kitchen counter and slowly followed Mike. He was suddenly afraid of facing all of those portraits again. They felt so raw and exposed, like particularly vulnerable parts of his own hidden self somehow.  
Mike was sitting on Will’s bed, eating two cookies at once and looking all around the room in awe.  
“They all look so fucking good,” said Mike, his mouth full of cookies. “Like magic. I don’t know how you did it.”  
Will blushed a little as he leaned against his door and stared around the room. The eyes of each drawing dazzled him, despite the dim lighting from the lamp beside his bed. “Its not magic. Its just...I don’t know.” He walked slowly around his room, staring at each cluster of expressions that represented each person’s essence. That was his theory anyway. But he also somehow felt that each drawing represented his own mind and all the emotions that he could not feel, or express because of the emptiness inside.  
Mike stared too, forgetting about the cookies for a moment.  
Mike liked looking at the drawings Will had done of him. He liked the way Will had captured him. It made him feel like Will really understood him and it was comforting to see his different emotions displayed on a piece of paper like that. It made him feel like each of his emotions were important. It made him feel strong and significant.  
Will sat down beside him on the bed and ate a cookie. “These cookies are magical.”  
Mike laughed. “Fuck yeah they are.”  
“Fuck yeah!” said Will, smiling sheepishly.  
Mike nudged his shoulder. “That’s the second time you’ve used the F word today.”  
“So what?! Are you counting now?”  
“No,” Mike protested. “Its just that you hardly ever say it.”  
“Whatever. It sounds cooler when you say it anyways.”  
Mike laughed and lay back on Will’s bed, his long legs dangling over the edge, the plate of cookies on his stomach. “Bull shit! I like it when you say it. Its cute. Say it again.”  
“Fuck you, Mike,” said Will. But he was grinning. He lay down beside Mike on the bed.  
They lay there side by side, enjoying the silence.

Will sat up abruptly, startling Mike, who had almost been asleep for a second.  
“I have to wash those dishes, or my mom will be really grumpy in the morning. She hates when we leave dirty dishes overnight. She doesn’t want a critter infestation.”  
Mike yawned. “Do we have too?”  
“Yes,” said Will, standing up.  
Mike threw a pillow at him and the drawing of Mike, that Will had hidden under his pillow, fluttered to the floor.  
“What's that?” Mike snatched it up before Will could take it. He examined it closely.  
Will fumbled nervously with a loose thread on his t-shirt, not looking at Mike.  
“I...I look so sad,” said Mike uncertainly. “I...when did you draw this?”  
“Just last night. Well, technically it was around 2am this morning.”  
“Oh,” said Mike, still staring at it. “Oh.”  
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I drew you looking so sad. I’m sorry.” Will itched his neck and wriggled his toes in the soft carpet.  
“Why did you hide this under your pillow?” asked Mike, looking up at Will.  
Will didn’t look at him. “I just - my mom found it and she was showing it to Jane and -”  
“Jane saw this? Did she say anything?”  
“No, she just - she seemed to like it.” Will didn’t mention that he had let Jane keep Max’s portrait. “And I just wanted to hide it from my mom. I don’t like when she goes through my things all the time, looking for clues, or whatever, about my moodiness.”  
Mike half smiled distractedly, still looking at the drawing. “Oh, okay.”  
“I’m going to go start the dishes,” said Will, suddenly wanting to be away from his room and that drawing of Mike. He didn’t care what Mike did with it.

Will filled the sink with soapy water and began to soak the bowls they had mixed the cookie dough in.  
A minute later Mike was standing behind him.  
“I’ll wash and you can dry and put them away, since I don’t know where these bowls go,” he said, pushing Will aside and sinking his hands deep into the soapy water. He was deep in thought.  
Will watched him in disbelief as he began to scrub the dishes vigorously. Mike’s serious concentration on such a meaningless task was unnerving. Something had to be done.  
Will scooped his hand across the mountain of bubbles and put a sudsy dollop on Mike’s chin.  
“You look good with a beard,” said Will, laughing  
“You little piece of shit,” said Mike, hastily wiping the bubbles off his chin. “I bet you’ll look even better.” Mike scooped up a plushy handful of bubbles and caked it all over Will’s cheeks and chin.  
Will didn’t even try to stop him. Mike’s face was so close to his own as he shaped the bubbly beard to a point on Will's chin.  
Mike grinned. “Never mind. It would never suit you.” He smoothed out the bubbles on Will’s cheeks and wiped it off of his chin. He held Will’s face in both of his hands, gently stroking Will’s cheeks with his thumbs. Will just looked up at him, forgetting how to breathe.  
“I wish I could draw you the way you draw me,” said Mike, softly. He quickly let go of Will’s face and turned away, plunging his hands back into the water. “But I can’t draw for shit.”  
Will laughed nervously, wiping away the rest of the soap from his face.  
Mike was silent again, vigorously washing the bowls. Will couldn’t look at him. Mike placed the bowl onto the dish rack beside the sink.

Will picked up a dish cloth and was about to starting drying the bowl when Mike swiftly leaned towards him and kissed his cheek.  
Will stepped back, the dish cloth dropping from his hand. “Why did you-”  
Mike pulled his soapy hands out of the water and grabbed Will’s arms. He leaned down and kissed Will on the mouth.  
Mike’s lips were so soft and he tasted like chocolate chip cookies. He gripped Will’s arms with his soapy hands and kissed him until he felt like he was melting away.

Mike let go and pulled back, panting for breath. Will almost fell over. He wobbled and stood still and touched his arms where water and soap suds trickled down to his elbows.  
“Sorry about the -” Mike gestured at Will’s soapy arms. Mike was blushing and scratching the nape of his neck and shuffling his feet and looking at the floor. “I’m sorry I – I shouldn’t have – fuck.”  
Will stepped forward until he was level with Mike’s chin. He stared up into Mike’s large, dark eyes. “Don’t be sorry,” he whispered, his voice shaking.  
Mike leaned down and kissed him again. Will reached up to touch Mike’s face and his hair, pulling him into a deeper kiss and Mike wrapped his arms around Will’s back, lifting him off of his feet slightly.  
Mike was gentle, his hair was thick and soft and his lips tasted beautiful.  
They pulled away and Mike squeezed Will in the longest hug. Will was on his tiptoes, his arms wrapped around Mike’s neck. 

They slowly let go and Mike stepped back. His face was flushed and he tried to hide his smile. "We really shouldn’t be – I can’t just – Jane and I are still -”  
“I know,” said Will, and he quickly picked up the dishcloth he had dropped and began to dry the bowl Mike had put on the dish rack. “We need to finish these dishes.”  
“Okay,” said Mike, glad to be distracted from what had just happened.  
Will had never seen anyone wash dishes so fast and so aggressively. He was almost as fast at drying the dishes and putting them away, but Mike was done before him. He sat on top of the counter, swinging his legs and watching Will without saying anything.

When Will put the last cookie pan away, Mike jumped off the counter soundlessly, like a cat. He swiftly leaned forwards and kissed Will on the mouth, his hand on Will’s cheek.  
Will quickly pulled away this time, feeling weak in the knees. “Mike we should really talk about this,” he said, blushing shamefully and trying to hold back a huge smile. “You can’t just keep kissing me.”  
“I can’t help it,” said Mike, kissing Will’s cheek, before Will pushed him back gently.  
“Oh my god, Mike.” He grabbed Mike’s arm and pulled him to his room. Mike didn’t protest. He sat down on Will’s bed with his back against the wall, hugging his knees.  
Will couldn’t sit down. He paced around his room, glancing at Mike every so often. Neither of them said anything.

Finally, Will spoke very quietly. “So...why did you kiss me?”  
“Why did you kiss me back?”  
“Don’t avoid the question. You kissed me first,” said Will, standing in front of his bed, his arms folded across his chest, looking at Mike.  
“Because...I wanted to,” said Mike, not looking at Will. He hugged his knees tighter.  
Will sat down on the edge of his bed. “But why? I thought you liked Jane.”  
“I do,” said Mike. He turned, stretched out his legs and lay on his back, his head hanging off the end of the bed. “I did,” he said, all the blood rushing to his brain. He sat up and then keeled over, so his long body was sort of bent in an L shape and he was looking up at Will, his thick black curls in his eyes. “But I like you too. I think I have for awhile.”  
“Oh.” Will was perched gingerly on the edge of his bed. He glanced at Mike’s face, which was shrouded by his mop of hair. “You have?”  
Mike buried his face in the comforter. “Yeah. It's all very confusing.” His voice was muffled by the blanket.  
“Yeah, it is,” said Will, scooting back so his legs were stretched out across the bed and he was leaning against the wall.  
“I’m sorry that I just kind of grabbed you and kissed you like that,” said Mike. His face still buried in the blanket. “I wanted to say something. I’ve been wanting to say something. But I didn’t know what to say.” He twisted his whole body around on the bed. He looked ridiculous and geometrically impossible. He sat up and shimmied over to Will.  
“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you did,” said Will.  
Mike kissed Will’s cheek and then settled his head in Will’s lap.  
“Mike!” said Will.  
Mike just grinned and nuzzled his face in Will’s lap, getting comfortable.  
Will ran his fingers absently through Mike’s hair.  
“I don’t know what to do.” Mike sat up abruptly, groaning into his hands. “I still really care about Jane, but I just – I don’t think I like her like that anymore. And I’ve been kind of blaming myself, like its my fault, like I pushed her away.”  
“Its not your -”  
“I know its not, and Lucas has reminded of that over and over,” he settled his head back into Will’s lap. “You’d think I’d get it by now. Poor Lucas. I’ve dragged him into my shit so much. But I’ve just been so confused and I couldn’t come talk to you about it, because you were the reason I was so confused. Sometimes, when I was kissing Jane, I would just be thinking about you all of a sudden. Your fucking face,” he said, reaching up to poke Will’s cheek. “Your big eyes.”  
Will blushed, examining Mike’s ugly sweater and avoiding his gaze. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have the right words.  
How was he supposed to tell Mike he had liked him for so long, but he hadn’t really realized it, or acknowledged it because he’d been so busy trying to ignore how much Mike cared about Jane and how much that bothered him. He’d been feeling stupid and nervous and jealous and he hadn’t even realized why, until Mike kissed him several minutes ago.  
And how could he have possibly have known that Mike was thinking these things about him, when he couldn’t even recognize his own feelings?  
Fear crawled up his skin. What if he couldn’t hold onto this? What if now that he knew what these feelings were, they would escape him and vanish into the sky.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Mike sat up. “I’m sorry, its my fault! I’m being such an asshole, just rambling on assuming you even give a shit and -”  
“I do, Mike. I do give a shit. I really, really like you okay!” Will stared at all the drawings of Mike’s face on the wall, of his mom’s face, of Jonathan’s face. “But I just got really good at pretending I didn’t, because I didn’t think you would ever...well, I had no fucking idea you were just going to go and fucking kiss me like that and now I’m afraid...I – I’m afraid that I won’t be able to hold onto this and that -”  
“Yes you will!” Mike launched himself at Will and squeezed him in the tightest and all enveloping side hug. Will sat like a stiff board, trying to breathe, and slowly relaxing in Mike’s strong grip.  
Mike eventually let go and leaned back on his forearms, gazing at Will very thoughtfully.  
“I’m going to talk to Jane. I’m going to call her tomorrow. I’m going to ask her to meet me and I’m just going to tell her. Fuck! What do I tell her? I probably shouldn’t tell her we kissed. She might accidentally explode both our brains out. And if she doesn't, Max will beat the crap out of me.”  
Will’s eyed widened in fright for a split second, before Mike laughed at him and kicked his foot.  
“I’m just kidding, Will. Are you really still scared of Jane?”  
“I’m not scared,” protested Will.  
“Yes you are. Look at all the drawings you did of her. All her expressions are pretty scary.”  
“Not all of them. And they’re not scary. She just has a very intense stare.”  
“Yeah she does. Fuck! Now I’m feeling nervous. What do I say to her? She’s going to start accusing me of lying again and then I’m going to have to somehow convince her that I still really care about her, even though I don’t want to be her boyfriend anymore.”  
Will could not believe Mike was actually going to have this discussion with Jane, for him. How had this happened? Mike and Jane did everything together. Will sometimes thought they would eventually get married and be together forever.  
“What, Will? What are you thinking? I command you to reveal all your secrets!” Mike held up his hand, his fingers taught, as if to probe Will’s mind with the Force.  
Will couldn’t help smiling. “I guess..I just can’t believe – are you really going to do this?”  
“Yes!” Mike sat up, looking fierce. Then he stood up on the bed, like the drama queen he was, his head almost touching the ceiling. “In case I wasn’t being fucking obvious enough by the way I was kissing you,” he said, his voice fervent but quiet, as it dawned on him that Mrs. Byers’ room was close by and she was probably trying to sleep, “I really like you, Will Byers and I want us to be boyfriends! I’m not really sure if that’s how it works, but I don’t fucking care because we -” he broke off mid thought.  
Will was looking up at him with a sort of befuddled amusement, his lips slightly parted, his eyebrows raised, and....  
”Fuck it,” Mike bounced back onto his knees in front of Will, leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth again, his hands gripping Will’s face.  
He pulled away, still cupping Will’s face in his hands, and they both grinned at each other.  
“Okay,” Will breathed. “Okay, I believe you.”

Will lay on his bed in the darkness. Mike was in a sleeping bag on the carpet beside his bed. They both stared up at the pitch black ceiling.  
Will was smiling unabashedly in the dark. Mike Wheeler had kissed him and he had kissed Mike Wheeler. Mike Wheeler, beautiful, cool, funny and smart, liked him more then a friend. Will could never have guessed that this would have been possible. He had buried his feelings for Mike so deep, that he hadn’t fully comprehended their existence until Mike kissed him. And now he was feeling giddy and ridiculous. He turned quickly in his bed and looked down at Mike.  
“Mike,”  
“Yeah.”  
“Are you still there?”  
“Yeah.” Mike’s voice had a hint of a smile in it.  
“Good,” said Will, and he snuggled to the edge of the bed so he could see Mike’s face faintly in the dark.  
“This is silly,” said Mike, sitting up abruptly.  
“What’s silly?” Will asked, fear creeping into his voice.  
“I’m coming up there. This floor is too hard, even with the carpet. I don’t know when we started this sleeping on the floor bullshit. I always used to sleep in your bed with you.” He got up, his tall, lean body looking like a mysterious specter in the dark. He stretched his back dramatically like an old man, picked up the pillow Will had given him and threw it on the bed. He bounced into the bed beside Will, squirming around a bit, the bed creaking noisily, as he made himself comfortable.  
“Mike, you’re taking all the blankets,” complained Will.  
“Come closer then, you’re about to fall off the bed” said Mike, nudging Will’s leg with his knee.  
Will grumbled and griped as he moved closer to Mike, feeling nervous and awkward again. He turned his body to face Mike, their faces very close. Mike’s brown eyes were shining in the dark, he poked Will’s face. “Hi.”  
“No more kissing tonight, Mike,” said Will sternly, trying to look anywhere but at Mike’s smooth skin and kissable lips.  
Mike scowled, “Okay, fine.” But then he put his long arms around Will and squeezed him close, Will’s face smothered in Mike’s chest.  
“Mmmphhh,” said Will.  
“Sorry,” said Mike, letting go and turning his back to Will. “Couldn’t help it, now go to sleep. Goodnight.”  
Will tapped Mike’s shoulder. “What?”  
Will tapped Mike’s shoulder again. “What?” Mike turned back around.  
Will nudged Mike’s arm up and snuggled his face into Mike’s shoulder. He rested his arm across Mike’s stomach and sighed comfortably.  
“So now I’m your human pillow?”  
“Yes, you’re quite comfortable actually,” said Will.  
Mike smiled, one arm resting on Will’s back, the other resting on top of Will’s arm, stroking it gently.  
They lay like this for awhile.  
“Will.”  
“Yeah.”  
“You know how you said you drew that picture of me at around 2am?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I was awake then and...I was sad. I was – how did you know?”  
“I don’t know. I was just drawing and your face kind of appeared on the page.”  
“See! These drawings are all connected somehow. This is some kind of map. Kind of like before, with the maps of those tunnels in the upside down. But this is like a map of people and emotions or something.”  
“Maybe,” said Will, his voice groggy. “I don’t know. Go to sleep, Mike. We’ll figure it out later.”  
Mike ran his fingers lightly in Will’s soft hair. “Okay,” he yawned.

After awhile, they were both asleep. Mike was a restless sleeper, bending his legs, stiffening his arms, turning his head, tugging at the blankets. He was a mess of tangled sheets and limbs, breathing loudly in his sleep. He was strewn out across the mattress diagonally, like a tragic Shakespearean figure. Will, somewhere in the crook or curve, was curled up in a ball, his knees hunched to his chin, clinging to a single sheet. Somehow Mike had managed to steal the entire plushy comforter for himself.

Will had a dream he was in the upside down.  
He often had this dream. His room became hollow and cold. The shade of darkness changed to reflect the absence of light. This world was a shadow, untouched by the sun. Rotting vines and twisted, blackened plants crept along the floor and crawled out of his closet. Sickening white flecks, like contaminated dandelion seeds, were suspended in the air, clogging up his lungs. His senses were filled with dread as his body became a shadow, hollowed out, empty and endlessly cold.  
It was only a dream. It was only a dream.  
Suddenly, he became aware that all of his drawings were still covering the walls and the strangest thing of all – they were casting the softest shafts of light into his room. Each sliver of light cut through the shadows, splintering into grey fractals. He felt something warm beside him.  
It was Mike, breathing deeply in his sleep. He touched Mike’s arm gently. It was solid and warm. It was real. Mike was with him in the upside down. His room didn’t feel quite so cold. He didn’t feel quite so empty anymore.

He woke up slowly, his eyes fluttering open.  
Sunlight was pouring through his window. His bed was a mess of sheets and blankets and Mike was gone. His eyes adjusted to the light and he saw a note on his beside table.  
He reached out to take it and realized that the note was written on the back of the drawing he’d done of Mike the night before.  
The note was from Mike, scribbled hastily, in his scrawling, barely legible handwriting:  
_Will the Wise!!!  
Didn’t want to wake you. You looked peaceful.  
Took some cookies as proof to my mom I can bake now.  
Going to meet with Jane today. Wish me luck!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Home is behind, the world ahead,  
> And there are many paths to tread  
> Through shadows to the edge of night,  
> Until the stars are all alight.  
> Then world behind and home ahead,  
> We'll wander back and home to bed."  
>  \- J.R.R. Tolkein, Fellowship of the Ring

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear your thoughts and feedback, and any of your wildest Stranger Things theories!  
> 


End file.
